Cataclysm: Kalamanda Rising
by ValkyrieLead
Summary: Drawn into a plot by his arch nemesis, Swain, Jarvan IV now faces tensions growing across Valoran and a powder keg developing in the sleepy village of Kalamanda. With the death of the Dragon, Kampf, Jarvan and Shyvana are set to return to Demacia, but their adventure has only just begun... - Sequel to Cataclysm of the Dragonborn. - Rated T for violence, gore, and suggestive themes.
1. Prologue: Lurkings

_The Ivory Ward... but why the Ivory Ward? What or who was there that could have caused him to disappear?_

Katarina Du Couteau frowned as she leaned backwards at her desk, propping the chair she was perched upon back onto two legs. She stared up at the opulent red ceiling, the color a deep, deep red in flickering light of the hextech lanterns upon the wall and the orange light that show through the window. A violently orange sun began to set over the top of the Darkbourne Hold, the mountain fortress the dominated Noxus' skyline. Katarina stared at the fortress with her mind drawn to those held within.

"Someone within that keep is responsible for what happened to you father." Katarina whispered under her breath. "I won't rest until I find out who..."

Katarina picked up the picture that was sitting on her desk, running her hand across the photo held in the frame. With red hair as violent and bloody as her own, and emerald green eyes that gleamed as bright as the smile that dominated his face. Katarina hadn't been more than fifteen or sixteen in the photo, but she rose up to just above her father's elbow, her arms crossed over her chest and her cheek puffed out in a look of indignation that fit the younger reflection of herself a bit too well. Sitting on one shoulder, Cassiopea's dark brown hair gleams and a bright smile shown on her face as she wrapped her small arms around her father's head to hold on. Talon was hanging under his father's arm, anger marring his face at the way he was being treated like luggage.

_They were twelve here... Talon and Cassi, and things were so much simpler._

It had been so long since Katarina had seen her father. Work and assignments had kept them from seeing each other for so long and now this. She shuddered as her shoulders sank.

_What couldn't you tell me that was so important you have to completely vanish from this air?_

She let the chair fall forward as her hand snuck the the blade upon her thigh. Hidden by the desk as the chair landed on all fours, she turned towards the door, her eyes narrowed to vicious slits.

A knock came at the door as she sent the chair crashing to the ground, jumping to her feet. Katarina jumped when the chair hit the ground, her heart racing.

_Easy self... easy._ She took a deep breath and let her heart slow, picking the chair up and setting it at her desk. "Enter."

"Katarina?" Talon pushed the door open and stepped in, his purple cloak sweeping in around him like a billowing shadow. "It seems Cassi has finally fallen asleep." His hood was pulled low over his brow, his face lost amid the darkness of the room.

"And the maid didn't die?" Katarina's hand slid away from the blade as she exhaled and dropped back to her seat and kicked the chair back up onto two legs.

"For once." Talon nodded. His gaze landed upon the picture that lay in the middle of Katarina's desk. "Kata..."

"I thought I told you not to call me that?" She snapped and raised an eyebrow as she shot him a perturbed look. "We're not kids anymore you know."

"Then why do you let that Demacian call you by that name? The knight... Garen, wasn't it?" Talon smirked, barely visible in the dim light. Katarina glared at him, anger sparkling in her green eyes. Talon chuckled and then raised his hands apologetically. "Sorry. A courier just arrived with a letter for you." He produced a heavy parchment envelope from within his cloak, the glittering blade upon his forearm clattering as he moved. Katarina accepted the letter from him and turned it over, the rough parchment paper weighty in her hand as she ran her eyes over the red wax seal that decorated the back. Simple red text read '_Katarina Du Couteau_' on the front.

A frown tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Did the courier say anything about the letter?"

"He said it was urgent, but nothing more regarding the letter." He grinned, showing pearly white teeth. "He was insistent that this be delivered to your hands, but I managed to convince him I was... _trustworthy."_

Katarina rolled her eyes as she broke the seal. "There's a reason the courier is never the same more than once in a row." Talon chuckled, the deep sound nearly as sharp as his blade. Katarina unfolded the letter and let her eyes fly over the text, written in a fitting blood red color.

"What's it say?" Talon growled after silence settled over the room.

"It's a summons..." Katarina murmured, a frown continuing to mar her brow. "They're going to announce the replacement to father within the High Command this evening. I've been _cordially_ invited and I've been given _privilege_ to invite a friend." The sting in her voice reflected just what she thought about the summons.

"I thought you had convinced them to suspend their decision till something definitive had been determined. To my knowledge, still nothing has been uncovered." Talon stood up straight, unease tightening his shoulder blades. Katarina pushed herself up from her chair, sliding the leather jacket from her shoulders and moving towards her closet, shrugging. The leather jacket ended up on the floor next to her bed, amid a sea of other clothing articles, pieces of parchment and books.

"So had I." Katarina mused as she pulled the door open and stepped inside, starting to toss shirts and jackets out onto her four-poster bed. "Apparently the High Command has amended their decision." Katarina emerged from the closet with a red jacket of a vague military styling held over her chest with one hand. She stepped in front of the mirror on her vanity and frowned at the red jacket. She let it fall away and then held an emerald green Jacket to her chest. Katarina looked at herself in the mirror.

Red hair framed her face, swept back behind her shoulders and green eyes glittered in the dim light. A faint pink scar ran vertically over her left eye, starting high on her forehead and then curving gently down to end below the crest of her cheekbone. Katarina had never disliked the scar; she thought it made her look menacing and dangerous, something that had saved her trouble many times and earned her more in others. She sighed and turned to Talon, holding both jackets in hand.

"Which one?" She said, flipping back and forth between the two.

"You're kidding me right?" Talon blanked, blinking several times before he ran a hand over his face with a groan. Katarina shrugged and then tossed both garments over her shoulder, one landing on the bed, the other the floor. She disappeared into the closet again. "What about the uniform you were issued? I thought you had been given that for occasions like this." Katarina frowned as she stared at her wardrobe. Her father had bought her a few dressed here and there for special occasions, but this wasn't an occasion of the sort. She wanted to make an impact, but she didn't want to send the wrong message. Her usually clothes would have been fine but it wouldn't serve to send any message at all, and that itself could send a bad message. She dug around and finally uncovered a box that held the uniform she had been given.

"Kat, you alright?" Talon frowned; silence this long usually ended in corpses, and as he looked around again. _This much of a mess will make it difficult to clean up all the blood. _Katarina stepped out, tightening a belt on her hip. She tugged one glove up her arm, and then tugged the other on, smoothing the high collar out and then tugging her red hair from the jacket, letting is cascade behind her. Though a bit overly decorative, the tight fitting purple and black Special Forces uniform fit her well. Talon let his eyes run over her once and then had to turn away to clear his mind. Katarina picked her black jacket up off the floor and raised it up around her shoulders. She looked to the frosted windowpanes and grimaced.

"You might want something a bit warmer." Talon echoed her thoughts, shrugging as he smoothed his cloak over his shoulders. Katarina nodded as she disappeared, producing a heavy black cloak that she wrapped over her shoulders.

"No reason to over dress, I suppose." Katarina said sarcastically as she grabbed the two swords hanging by leather belts from a coat rack near the door. She belted them in place, adjusting them till they were within easy grasp.

Katarina turned towards Talon. "Ready for trouble?"

A thin lipped grin slid onto Talon's face. "Let's finish this quickly."

Katarina swept out the front of her estate with Talon in tow, moving towards the center of Noxus. Though an evening haze has settled over the city, Darkbourne Mountain rose up over the city imperiously. Katarina looked up at the hollowed out mountain that dominated the landscape. An entire side of the mountain had been torn away, leaving several holes in a pattern that looked decidedly like the face of a skull. Though no official record had been made by the mining foreman who had originally hollowed out the mountain centuries before, Katarina had never been able to shake the feeling that it had been intentional for the sole purpose of frightening any enemy who dared approach. Perched atop the mountain was a massive fortress with towering walls adorned with spikes, its spires reaching up higher than any other point along the visible landscape.

_Darkbourne Keep._

Hidden deep within those mighty walls was the quarters of the current Grand General of Noxus, Boram Darkwill, who ruled over all of the Noxian Empire. Consisting of the twelve highest ranked generals in the Noxian command structure, the High Command of Noxus served as an advisory council to the Grand General on all of the actions and operations of Noxian interest Stretching from Ionia and the Freljord, all the way down to Bandle City and the Blue Flame Isles, Noxus had agents and agencies all across Valoran. With so many potential leaks and problems that could crop up at any moment, only the most trusted and powerful of figures were summoned to the depths of Darkbourne keep.

Katarina shivered as a gust of wind swept down the street. _If we've been invited, both of us, things must be truly dire._

"It feels like we're walking into a trap, doesn't it." Talon murmured, his voice low and lost upon the wind.

"Since when could you read minds?" Katarina glanced over a Talon as she turned her collar up against the December wind.

"I don't need to be able to read minds to be able to tell what you're thinking right now." Talon said with a smirk. Though barely a few inches taller than she was, for a brief moment Talon seeed to tower over her. Her fears of the worst served to amplify how vulnerable Katarina felt at the moment, leaving her sinking into his shadow. She hid the pain with scorn, glaring at the assassin, but the damage has already been done. "Kata..."

"I told you to stop calling me that." She hissed, hurrying her pace and hiding the pain away with indignation. "You may have been adopted into our family when you were still just a boy, but others will see that as weakness. Never show a Noxian your weakness."

The cold tone of her voice cut through Talon like polished steel. His face blanked and then returned in a mask of anger. "Fine, I'll drop it."

Katarina watched as he strode ahead, his shoulders again bunched up in anger beneath his cloak. Talon had been a rough cut little boy when her father had brought him home. Similar in age to Katarina's younger sister, the young man had proved almost as adept with a knife as Katarina and despite the trouble, he had come to fit right in. Katarina let a smile slide onto her face for a brief moment before she pushed up to match his pace again.

_I miss him too, Talon. You have no idea how much I miss father._

* * *

The sun had set and the lantern lighters were roaming the streets, the soft orange orbs glowing across the city that stretched out below them. Standing outside the main entrance to Darkbourne keep, atop the mountain that it was perched up, Katarina had a supreme view of the lands that surrounded Noxus, despite the evening haze that had settled upon the landscape. The rivers that spread out in every direction were haunting ribbons of silver, haphazardly strewn across the landscape. Mountains rose up in the distance, melding with darkened sky above, the snow capped peaks barely visible in the darkness.

"Mistress Katarina Du Couteau I presume?"

The voice was pompous and nasally, as if someone had shoved a sock so far up their nose it had lodged in their forehead. She turned and was met by a man in a military uniform with a nose so large it looked as if he had been born the son of a parrot. His cheeks were red against the sting of the wind and though his cloak bore the green and gold colors of the Noxian Military, he also wore the red and black accents of the Darkbourne Elite Guard. Captain's rank tabs gleamed upon the collar of his jacket, showing just inside his hood.

"Yes, Captain." Katarina nodded, finally acknowledging his question.

"You've been expected, ma'am." He looked down at a parchment scroll before he rolled it up and tucked it away into his jacket. "And brother?" Talon frowned but nodded, his arms crossed over his chest beneath his cloak. Where it had been cold in the streets of Noxus, atop Darkbourne mountain it was absolutely frigid. "You may come as well. This way please, Grand General Darkwilll is waiting."

"Did he now?" Talon snarled, rolling his eyes at the man's back as he turned to follow. Katarina shot him an angry look and Talon snapped his mouth shut before he could make another sarcastic remark.

"Oh yes." The officer glanced over his shoulder with a smile so greasy that Talon refused to open his mouth. "We should be quick, the council is waiting as well."

They swept in past the huge number of Guards posted at the main entrance and into the inner courtyard of the hold. Green and Golden banners hung all around the courtyard, though some looked decidedly worn against the weather. More guards stood stock still, as if they were statues. They stopped briefly outside the gate, and the captain presented the paperwork he held to the Guard of wore a crimson officers sash to inspect. They weren't waiting long before they were allowed to move through on though. A short stop marked another check point, the officer sweeping past them this time, only the guards eyes moving as they moved past. A pair of guards opened a massive, steel reinforced wooden door, granting the small party entrance to the main hall of the hold. Soft golden light flickered in the large entrance hallway, a worn statue standing sentinel at the far end of the hall. Towering nearly a hundred feet tall, the statue was a grim monolith to Noxian power.

_Grand General Howadin Berentheld, the first Grand General of Noxus._

They moved around the statue, the heavily polished stone gleaming even in the dim light. They entered a large doorway that had been hidden by the statue's width, more guards standing sentinel. The rest of the journey into the hold was a confusing maze of lefts and rights, up flights of step and down flights of steps, until both Katarina and Talon were thoroughly lost.

"Where the hell are we going?" Talon grumbled as they pressed deeper into the depths of the hold. Their guide's boots clopped on endlessly though, memory leading him through the maze without fault. Talon groaned as they passed more guards, each one towering over Talon and Katarina, their golden armor gleaming in the dim torch light. Their journey deposited them in a unsuspecting looking hallway that led further on, disappearing behind another corner, but the two guards that stood outside the door on the left side of the hall marked their destination.

"Go on in, you're expected." The captain motioned to the door, blocking the path deeper into the hold. The guards pushed the door open, granting Talon and Katarina entrance. Katarina shot a fleeting glance at the hook-billed man before she stepped into the darkened room. As they both moved into the darkness, the door slammed shut behind them, leaving them in a sea of darkness.

Motes of flame burst to life around the room, revealing a high desk of darkened wood that stretched around the circular room. Standing closer on towards the center of the room, a man clad in the Noxian colors stood patiently, a cane held at his side and a bird perched upon his shoulder. With oily black feathers, the bird's head rotated to look at Katarina as she moved forward to stand next to the man, watching her with a row of three glowing orange eyes.

"Swain." Katarina acknowledged the man with a curt nod, watching as he turned his head ever so slightly to look down at her.

"Mistress Du Couteau." His voice was hard and gravelly, but there was an oiliness to it that matched his Raven's feathers. "Your father's disappearance has struck a great blow to Noxus. He will be missed."

"He isn't dead yet, Swain." Katarina shot back, the look in the man's eyes dialing back from cold and calculating to an even simmer. "I suspect that when he returns, you'll be the first to know."

"I eagerly await his return, then." Swain said, bowing his head ever so slightly in respect. Katarina forced a tight smile upon her lips.

"Where are the generals, this is the High Command's normal meeting place, right?" Talon leaned in and whispered, his eyes darting about the high desk that circled the room, the thirteen seats of the Noxian Grand General's advisory council empty.

"These chambers are used primarily for inquiries and trials, young man." Swain growled, looking up at the high desk. "Getting _invited_ in here is a rare honor you should relish, not question." Talon shot Swain a dirty look, but the Lieutenant General wasn't paying attention. High above them, behind the desk, a door had opened with a creak and the members of the advisory council had begun to file in. Each was escorted by a guard of varying stature, each decorated with an array of colorful armor and trophies.

"I recognize most of these men." Talon said under his voice, just loud enough for Katarina to hear him. "That's General Darius and his brother, Draven, known as the Blood Brothers of Noxus. And that's Chancellor Malek Hawkmoon, reigning general of the Ionian Occupation Campaign... if he's here then something really is up." Talon fell silent as he watched the council file in.

"It'd be best if you keep your mouth shut unless spoken to." Katarina hissed, turning slightly towards the assassin. Talon simply nodded, watching as twelve older men filed in and took their seats atop the desk, each looking down across the room. The door closed marking the end of the procession, leaving a single seat midway around the arc to the right absent.

Perched in the center most seat, the eldest of the group sat regally, looking down at the desk in front of him. With a mane of grizzled white hair, a short trimmed beard that gave his jaw a hardened edge, and piercing ice blue eyes, Boram Darkwill read over a piece of parchment. His quill danced over the parchment briefly before he set it down before him and then laced his hands together, staring down at the three Noxians who stood patiently waiting. Though his face was marred by wrinkles and showing the signs of his advanced age, Grand General Darkwill's eyes were as sharp as steel and gleamed almost white, even in the flickering golden light surrounding them. He pulled the spectacles from his face and set them gently upon the desk before him.

"Wecome back from the front, Lieutenant General Swain." Swain bowed his head in the general's direction and a smile slipped into his eyes. "I've heard great things about your recent exploits within the Institute of War, and your record speaks for itself." He waved a hand at his desk, gesturing to the piece of parchment he had set down there.

"The pleasure is mine, Grand General." Boram's gaze moved to Katarina.

"And the prodigious heir to the Du Couteau name." Darkwill's eyes darkened for a moment as he sat back and looked down his nose at Katarina. "And your adopted brother I assume?"

"Yes, Grand General." Katarina bowed and then shot a glance at Talon. The younger assassin looked surprised but bowed as well after a moment.

"How fares your younger sister? Cassiopea?" A smile began to spread upon his face at the look of surprise Katarina wore.

"She is fairing poorly still, Grand General." Katarina said reluctantly. "She stays trapped within her room at all hours of the day. Many of the servants that try to attend to her tend to end up... dead. Finding hired help has become... troublesome." Darkwill nodded, rubbing his palms together gingerly.

"A shame, she was the jewel of the Noxian court." Darkwill nodded. "Speaking of... Swain, I was told you were coming with an old friend of mine?" He glanced down at the Lieutenant General.

Swain nodded, and met the Grand General's gaze. "I was, but unfortunately she wasn't able to arrive on time." Swain bowed slightly in respect. "She sends her apologies and wished for me to convey a message that she would be running slightly late."

"Unfortunate." Darkwill nodded slightly, as if it had been expected. "But not unforeseen. We'll proceed then." He turned to look down at Katarina for a few moments. "I'm sorry to say, no news has been gleamed from our investigations into the disappearance of your Father, General Marcus Du Couteau. I understand you've been preoccupied with your duties to the Institute of War as well as your cooperative efforts with the affairs in Kalamanda." He glanced down at the sheet of parchment in front of him, and then his eyes strayed to another sheet. "Have your own investigations led to any new leads?"

"No." Katarina shook her head tersely. _So my absence was not wholly unmissed._

"Very well." Darkwill sighed softly. "That brings us to the matter of tonight's business." He paused a moment, looking left and right along the high desk that lorded over the room. "The Noxian High Command has suggested and I have decided unanimously that with the absence of General Marcus Du Couteau for this extended period of time, the promotion of a new General must be made for the good of the Noxian people." Darkwill paused a moment and met Katarina and Swain's gaze before continuing. "Unfortunately, with the absence of General Du Couteau coming close to nearly three months now, and the tense situations developing in Kalamanda, a new general will be promoted to fill the vacant slot."

"An appropriate move given the situation." Swain said, nodding. "With the prospect of war upon the horizon, and the aggressive actions of Prince Jarvan recently, in addition to their apparent alliance with the dragons, the odds are starting to stack against us."

"He has a point!" A voice emerged from the darkness of the council desk. "We can't fight dragons under the Institute of War, not without using ancient rune magics."

"We need someone strong to take decisive action against these threats!" Another, deeper voice suggested. "To cut them off from the source!"

"I asked Lieutenant General Swain to attend the meeting tonight with the intent of volunteering his name for this position." A deeper growl of a voice echoed from the far side of the room. Darius stood as he gestured to the seat that sat vacant towards the center of the half circle along the desk. "His long history of service to Noxus and gilded service record proves he is more than competent on the field of battle. His service within the Institute of War has proven he is a capable diplomat and representative of Noxus amid her sister nations. He is by and far the best suited choice to the successor to the late Marcus Du Couteau right now." Darkwill slammed his hand down onto the desk several times, silencing the chatter that had started amid the members of the High Command.

"Order." He practically shouted, his voice booming over the group. "Order." The room drifted to silence as the council regrouped and calmed itself. Darius, a smirk riding on his face, resumed his seat. Darkwill frowned, glaring at the relatively young general. "While you still maintain the junior most position upon this council, General I will accept this nomination, if the Lieutenant General accepts his name being put forth."

All eyes settled on Swain.

"It is a high mantle of responsibility, but I will gladly accept this challenge." Swain nodded sagely.

"Very well." Darkwill said, putting his hand down on the table firmly.

"Are there any qualms amid the High Command?" Darkwill glanced left and and right, looking for one of the eleven other voices to speak up amid the group.

"Perhaps the children of General Du Couteau will have something to say?" A female voice prompted, though deep, it rung true amid the silence. "This has substantial bearing upon them as well, and that is why you had then brought here, correct?"

"Isn't it normal for a waiting period of at least six months before a new general is nominated in the case of a murder?" Talon snarled, stepping forth and spreading his arms wide to get his point across. "Why the hell is this going so fast?"

"Talon!" Katarina snapped, glaring at him. The younger assassin frowned and took a step back, frowning but bowed his head.

"Apologies, I was out of place." Talon said quietly.

"Though poorly put, he has a point." Katarina said, glancing over at Swain. "I'm surprised High Command has advanced this fast without proper notification or ceremony. The High Command is usually on top of things like this."

"You may not be completely clued in to things right now, but there is more than meets the eye with Noxus' current political situation." Swain growled.

"I can answer for the will of my own council, thank you." General Darkwill said, looking down at Swain, the wrinkles tightening around his eyes.

The balding lieutenant general looked to the ground and bowed his head, taking a step back. "Pardon me for my outburst, Grand General."

"See that you mind yourself from now on." Darkwill said evenly.

"Sir." Swain said quietly.

"To address your concerns, Misstress Du Couteau." Darkwill looked back to the red-haired assassin. "Swain wasn't lying when he said that things were not as they seem right now. Demacia, Ionia and Piltover are all pressuring the Institute of War for a rematch to determine whether or not Noxus has the right to remain occupying Ionia. With the fear of losing our main source of minerals and a large portion of our food producing capability gripping the population, we will be forced to further our trade alliances with other nations, many of which are not supportive of the Invasion of Ionia seven years prior. That is why you were given the important task of securing a claim in Kalamanda. Those resources are going to be very important to Noxus soon. " Kataraina grimaced but silenced her complaints. "With such dark prospects in the future, we must show even the smallest mote of weakness to our enemies. Do you have any qualm with this logic?"

"No." Katarina grumbled. "I withdraw my argument, Grand General Darkwill."

"You say you withdrew your opinion, but your begrudging tone suggest otherwise." Darkwill said, looking down at Katarina with a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "You may have grown, little Katarina, but I remember when you were barely up to my knee." Darkwill chuckled. "We won't stop our efforts to find your father. Marcus was a loyal friend and as loyal a son that Noxus has ever seen."

"Ahem." A voice coughed, and then Darkwill looked surprised.

"Apologies, I seem to be getting a bit nostalgic in my old age." Darkwill said with a soft chuckle.

"Thank you, general." Katarina said softly and took a step back. "I have no further qualms with the Lieutenant General's nomination.: She turned slightly towards Swain. "Congratulations, Lieutenant General." Swain nodded coldly, but he at least tried to appear gracious.

"We will now hold a vote." Darkwill said with a nod. "All in favor?"

Eleven purple motes of flame burned around him, one above each of the other eleven members. A red mote of flame burst to life above Darkwill's head. All of the flames swirled about above his head, coalescing into a single swirling ball of blue fire. It lowered down in front of Darkwill, settling on his hand, held before his face. His lips moved beneath his beard as he whispered into the flame. It burned bright for a second and then fizzles out into a charred piece of paper that fluttered to his hand. He returned his spectacles to his nose and then his eyes glanced at the parchment scrap. He sighed and then looked down at swain, return his spectacles to the table.

"Very well, the votes are unanimous." Darkwill stood up and looked down at Swain. "Congratulations on your promotion to the High Command. With your promotion comes the rank of General. It is long overdue that we recognize your many accomplishments, your cunning, and, above all, your unwavering loyalty to the Empire and to the High Command."

A round of applause started with Darius and slowly carried through the room. A smile carried through Swain's eyes as he looked up as if he had won a great victory.

"Thank you all for your vote of confidence." Swain crooned. "I swear upon my life as a son of Noxus that this will be the beginning of a period of good fortune and untold strength for Noxus." His Raven cawed and then settled back onto his shoulder.

"Well put." There was a chorus of agreements before Swain settled his cane in front of him, still smiling.

"I know this was rather short term, but I hope all of you will be able to stay and enjoy some refreshments." General Darkwill said as a piece of parchment was placed in front of him by a soldier in a Noxian guardsman's uniform. Darkwill's eyes raced over the text and then he nodded, picking up his quill, scribbling something across the bottom, nodding definitively. "And with that, it's official. A proper ceremony will be arranged for the following week."

Katarina shifted uncomfortably, looking at Talon. He growled, but stared at the ground, his hand clenched into fists.

_I know the feeling._

* * *

"So what happened to our guest of honor?"

A single voice echoed the groups thoughts in the small reception hall that had been prepared for the aftermath of the events of that evening. The head cook of Darkbourne Hold had been rousted from his slumber to prepare some food for the guests. Lain out about the room on opulently dressed tables, massive plates of food covered every surface, and a small bar was fully stocked to serve those who need to quench their thirst. Many of the attendees now carried wine in golden goblets and some stuffed their face with Hors d'oeuvres. Darius and Draven spoke boastfully with the other generals, many who surrounded the brothers desiring tales of their exploits, hoping to with their favor and avoid the fell of Darius' ax.

Off to the side of the room, Katarina leaned against the wall and Talon stood sullenly by, watching as the bureaucrats went about their mixing and mingling. Idle chattered drifted around the air, a roaring fire warding off the winter chill on the far end of the room.

"I feel out of place." Talon grumbled, looking about with disgust rife upon his expression.

"You used to attend social functions like this with my father, didn't you?" Katarina said, switching feet, raising one and pressing it against the wall as she glanced around the room. She wasn't at home amid the politicians either. She had attended balls before, but it usually ended in blood. Her sister was the one adept in the subversive art of politicking and seduction. Katarina preferred methods that were a bit more... _direct._ She sighed, feeling uncomfortable.

"I did." Talon said quietly, his hand hovering over his forearm where his blade was. "But I was there as protection, not a somebody's plus one. I sat in the shadows or the rafters, watching... waiting."

"Hmmph." Katarina nodded towards the door, her cat like instincts as sharp as ever. The doors cracked open and a guard pushed the door open as in hobbled Swain, his raven on one shoulder and a woman on his free arm.

"Who is that?" Talon murmured under his breath, standing up slightly straighter than before.

"I don't know, I've never seen her before." Katarina narrowed her eyes as she glared at the woman. Clad in a skin tight green dress that clung to her body and stretched from her neck to the floor, she was was a sight to behold. Though tight, the dress was slit high on each thigh, revealing long legs perched upon tall heals. Black hair gleamed in the light, and her supple chest bounced with every step. She wore long gloves that ended high on her arms that were the same color as her golden eyes. Purple lipstick marked her lips and marks just under eyes gave her an exotic look, and she wore a single black rose tied back in her bun.

"I don't know either, but damn if she isn't good looking." Talon wore a grin on his face, leaning back, pulling his hood back on his head to get a better look.

"Is that so?"

"YEEOUCH!" Talon snarled, bouncing up on one foot as Katarina turned away and stalked off, her arms crossed over her chest. He hopped after her, holding a foot in both hands, the steel boot mashed down, a pattern distinctive to Katarina's boot matching it. "What the hell was that for?" Katarina ignored him, moving towards the group that had started to form. She stepped up next to Boram Darkwill who leaned heavily on a cane of his own.

"Ah, young Katarina, how are you enjoying the party?" General Darkwill said, looking down at the red-headed assassin. She shrugged.

"It is not to my tastes, to be perfectly honest, but your chef is quite the master." Katarina said, smiling a politely as she could.

"Succinctly put, young one." Darkwill said with a chuckle. "Your father was the same way, all business and never able to enjoy the... _finer_ things in life."

"Speaking of, who is that woman, I don't believe I've ever met her before." Katarina posted a fist on one hip and frowned.

"She was a peer of mine at the Noxian Military Academy." General Darkwill said, letting a frown cross his face for a moment. "Though for years, she hasn't bothered to come out of seclusion."

"She was a peer?" Katarina raised an eyebrow, frowning. "She hardly looks a day over twenty."

"Yes, indeed..." Darkwill's voice trailed off as his gaze darkened for a moment. The mood seemed to lightened as a smile spread over his face and he moved towards her. "Emilia LeBlanc, you truly are a vision."

_Leblanc?_

Katarina looked to Talon, his pain gone, a hardened mask sliding over his face, the realization washing over him as well. He nodded quietly at her, and she knew it was time to go. Darkwill pushed through the small cluster of people and spread his arms in an inviting gesture. He took her hand in his and kissed it once, smiling back and forth from Swain to LeBlanc. "How many years has it been, Emilia?"

"Twenty, easily, Boram." Emilia said, a smile settling upon her purple lips.

"How did you and the new General here come to be acquainted?" Darkwill wore an easy smile, some of the age washing from his face, though the years still showed heavily upon his face compared to his academy peer.

"I think it's about time we left." Katarina growled under her breath. Talon nodded and they slowly began making their way to the door.

"...It wasn't long after that when we met." Swain recalled, looking up at the ceiling as if he were summoning a long lost memory. "We exchange mail every once in a while, and have remained friends since the occasion."

"How grand." Darkwill boomed, a smile still dominating his face. He glanced around the room and spied Katarina moving slowly towards the door. "Leaving so soon, Miss Du Couteau? The party has only just begun!" Katarina was frozen in her tracks but she put on a smile and turned to look towards Darkwill. Her gaze swept across LeBlanc's eyes and Katarina felt electricity run through her veins as the entire world around her froze. Flames froze mid flicker, chatter froze in the air without tone, mouths ajar mid sentence, actions completely stalled mid action.

Silence and utter stillness filled a void around her.

"You may wish to watch out in the future." LeBlanc purred, an imperious smile upon her face.

"What'd you do!" Katarina snapped, glancing around. Talon's face was frozen mid snarl as Leblanc moved towards her, circling her slowly like an animal on the prowl. Katarina was unable to move anything but her eyes, watching as LeBlanc moved around her, drifting in and out of reach. Katarina tried to move her arms but she felt like her entire body was made of lead, getting dragged down, weighed down by solid lead upon her arms. "What is this?"

"It's simply a little trick I picked up in the Institute of War." LeBlanc swept in and ran a finger over Katarina's cheek. Her finger ran over the scar that marked Katarina's left eye, drifting down along her jaw. LeBlanc tapped Katarina on the chin once with her finger tip and paused slightly, looking down her nose at her fellow countrywoman. Her gaze lingered on Katarina for a moment before she moved on, looking to Talon with hungry eyes. "Such a handsome young man... what a treat he would be." LeBlanc took a step back and smiled, her gaze moving up and down the frozen assassin's form. "It would be a shame if something were to happen to him..."

LeBlanc's smile sent ice coursing through Katarina's vein and caused dread to pool in her stomach.

"You're going to threaten me by trying to get at me through my family..." Katarina hissed angrily.

"I always hated veiled threats." Leblanc examined her gloved finger tips, working them slowly. "While I do prefer the fun of smoke and mirrors myself, sometimes you must cut a problem off at the roots."

"What do you want?" Katarina growled after a snarl of anger died in her throat.

"Oh, but I haven't even said what I was going to do to him." LeBlanc reached into his hood and brushed a lock of his long brown hair from his face. "Such a strong, firm young man like this... he's right where I want him."

"I can only imagine." Katarina snarled, her voice dripping with disgust. "What do you want?"

"Not even going to play a little bit?" LeBlanc pouted. Katarina rolled her eyes. "You're no fun at all."

"Bite me, you old hag!" Katarina snapped, fire now burning in her eyes.

"There's the fight I so enjoy." LeBlanc hissed, her voice wavering, her breathing growing heavy as if she enjoyed this torture far too much.

LeBlanc's glare turned to stone.

Suddenly it was gone, pure ice in her expression. Her eyes darkened and her gaze was like that of a gorgon. Katarina felt the anger in her heart turn to fear in an instant. "Stay out of our way, little girl. Noxus is now embarking on a road to success and you can't do anything to stop it."

"Where is my father!" Katarina shouted, her body jerking as she struggled against the powerful magic spell.

"Ah, wouldn't you like to know..." LeBlanc laughed, the sound chilly and cruel. "Behave and I might tell you."

"Fine!" Katarina growled, her anger muted. "Just tell me where he is."

"I will when this is all over." LeBlanc smiled as she pulled the rose from her hair, telling her black hair cascade around her face, veiling it in a darkness that was inhuman. She slid forward and slid the black rose into the lapel of Katarina's jacket. She patted it fondly, smiling cruelly as she did. "Until then, you'll do your best not to meddle in our plans." Katarina's gaze strode to Swain. "Oh, and regarding the idiot prince... I'll take care of him, don't worry." LeBlanc's smile cut through Katarina as she moved back to Swain's arm. "And young miss Katarina, just so you know... there's no escape."

The world around her began to move again.

"Miss Katarina?" General Darkwill looked concerned. "Are you feeling well?"

"Ah." Katarina felt sweat beading upon her brow. She looked to LeBlanc, who feigned a mask of concern like the others. _I see how it is._

Katarina forced a smile onto her face, though she hand to clench her hands behind her back to hide the trembling. "I feel a bit under the weather, honestly General. I was going to retire to my family's manor for the evening. I'm afraid this winter weather doesn't agree with me."

"A pity." General Darkwill said, nodding. "I wish you good health."

"Thank you, general." Katarina bowed. "And you as well. If you'll excuse me." Katarina spun as Talon bowed and swept after her, Katarina's pace threatening to break into a run as she stepped into the hallway.

_I need to get out of here..._

* * *

"What was that all about?" Talon grumbled as they emerged outside of Darkbourne Hold.

_I can't tell him about LeBlanc... about what she threatened to do to Talon... to Jarvan..._ Katarina forced a smile onto her face.

"It's nothing, I just needed some fresh air." She said striding towards the cliff and stopping at the low wall the protected pedestrians from the sheer cliff. "I find social functions like that so stuffy and unbearable." Katarina spun and collapsed on the stone wall, looking down at her hands, each quivering in a mix of hatred and fear. She let her head rest in her hands for a moment, shivering.

_L is LeBlanc... She was the one who was orchestrating all of this _A frown darkened Katarina's brow as she pulled her hood up against the wind. _What interest does LeBlanc have in all of this? And what of Swain? Surely he's involved as well..._

"So this LeBlanc character, you really think she's the one?" Talon said with a low voice, standing off to one side and staring out over the city.

"She might be, yes." Katarina said, putting on a fake smile, that was marked with anger. "Though I don't have any evidence."

"A pity." Talon grumbled, he paused and growled, scratching his head. "There was something I forgot to mention earlier because of the courier. My digging for information finally turned something up on that wannabee assassin from a month ago, the one who tried to silence Prince Blockhead and his pet dragon." Katarina looked up at him, and though she could see anger on her face, surprise dominated her expression. She shook her head and then looked back at him, her eyes sharper than before.

"What'd you find?" Katarina said, looking up to meet Talon's gaze with narrowed eyes. _I might not be able to do anything now... but it won't hurt to have hard proof when I need it._

"Turned out his was actually from Zaun, a disgruntled miner." Talon shrugged. "When the ore ran out the mine he worked in closed down and his family ran out of money. Not all that out of the ordinary, right?" Katarina nodded, it didn't seen all that strange. "Well I got to thinking, and it wouldn't be too difficult to tie the miner's motives to that of the rising tensions in Kalamanda. You saw how easily Swain used The Prince and his Pet for his own motives." Katarina's glare darkened as she recalled the words Swain had twisted about.

"Why would a miner have motive though?" Katarina frowned. "The target was Jarvan IV, not a mine executive."

"I highly doubt he knew that when he attacked." Talon said with a shrug. "And besides, with all of the talks in Kalamanda right now, it wouldn't be impossible for the miner to try and disturb the efforts there to decide who gets the mining rights. It be easy to spin it as a crime of passion."

"That is true..." Katarina sighed as she pushed herself to her feet, opening and closing her fists several times.

"Shall I follow the lead up and keep digging?" Talon asked, looking over at her.

Katarina shook her head. "We've got enough to worry about right now. Leave it." Talon looked surprised for a moment but then shrugged it off.

"Fine by me." He looked back over the city, spots of light illuminating the city below in a soft orange glow. "But what about...?"

"Prince Jarvan and Shyvana can take care of themselves." Katarina started walking down the cobblestone walkway, her hands buried deep in her cloak to hide her nerves. She paused and looked out over the westward sky.

..._At least I hope they can..._


	2. Chapter 1: Demacia

"Garen! Don't do it!" Jarvan shouted, struggling against the guards that held him.

"Prince Jarvan..." Garen looked over his shoulder, his sword still clutched in both hands, held to Shyvana's throat. He looked at his childhood friend, and the distress upon his face. Garen had to look away, the happiness he had felt at being reunited with his childhood friend now drained from his body. "...Apologies, my friend."

"Finish it, Captain Crownguard." The king ordered, his voice firm. Lady Catherine looked from her husband to her son and then to the ruby haired young woman who lay upon the ground, a sword at her throat.

"Father, no!" Jarvan IV snarled. Hatred swirled in his eyes as he stared up at the elder Lightshield, struggling against his wardens. "What the hell do you want, damnit? I didn't think even you'd do something this underhanded!"

"Keep him restrained!" Jarvan III snapped back with equal anger, watching as the gold, blue and white armored Demacian soldiers struggled with his disobedient son. They held their lances across the prince's chest, crossed and braced, but as the prince continued to struggle, the men were starting to give. _He's grown much stronger..._ Jarvan III let his expression mellow as he watched his son struggle as one of the strongest Champion of Demacia stood over a young woman who looked out of place amid the Demacian court. A crowd of staff had gathered around the terrace to watch the commotion, and Jarvan III surveyed them with a smirk. _It won't serve any purpose to do this in front of so many, but it must be done._ The king rested a hand upon the hilt of his sword which sat in its sheath upon his hip. "Captain Crownguard, you have your orders. Do it. There isn't a place in Demacia for the likes of a weakling like her."

"Jarvan..." Lady Catherine started to reach out to her son, but Jarvan III put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back, shaking his head. Anger welled in her eyes as she stared up at her husband. "Why are you tormenting him like this, Trey?"

"Silence Catherine." Jarvan III ordered, glaring at his wife. "This is a battle, and she lost. She wasn't strong enough. Now, she must face the penalty for her actions."

Garen paused as he stood over the young woman, staring into the ice blue hardened glare of the King of Demacia. Garen's chest heaved as he used the back of his gloved hand to wipe blood from his chin. He brought his weapon up above his head and held it there, looking down over his quarry. Shyvana lay at his feet, her tattered red hair splayed out around her like a giant pool of blood. Blood poured from the deep gash on her arm, a bruise forming on her forehead. Her chest heaved with the exertion and fear, her entire body trembling slightly. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, meeting his glare. Garen took a half step back, his mouth ajar.

Fire boiled in her violet eyes as they slowly swirled with golden color, her pupils narrowing to black diamonds. Blue scales started to show on her face as her face contorted in anger.

Garen shivered as he tightened his fists around his sword and lifted it up above his head. _Just what are you?_

"DO IT, CAPTAIN!" Jarvan III barked the order and Garen closed his eyes, unwilling to stare into the eyes of someone who had so much fight left in them as they died.

Garen brought his sword down in a cleaving swing, striking the stone just before her and driving his blade in deep. He grunted with the effort, but as Garen closed his eyes and began to radiate with power, the hum of steel could be heard ringing in the air. The blade sunk deeper as he poured all of his might and energy into the manifestation of his true strength. He exhaled and then shouted, driving the blade into the ground with as much force as he could muster, a flash of golden light enveloping the area as blue flames seemed to pour off of his body.

"No!" Jarvan bellowed. He sunk down and shoulder checked one of the guardsmen who now tried to restrain him, sending the man tumbling backwards. He grabbed the lance still held over his chest and hauled the other soldier over his shoulder, slamming him onto the ground, his armor clattering as air exploded out of the soldier's mouth. Jarvan launched himself towards where Shyvana lay on the ground, a lance in his hands. "SHYVANA!"

A massive golden sword dropped from the sky.

* * *

_Earlier that morning..._

Jarvan stepped out of the entrance of the Laughing Yordle and yawned, stretching his arms high above him as he stretched his back. He rolled his head and cracked his neck, leaning his lance against his body as he settled his pack on his back and adjusted the straps to ride a bit higher above his hip.

"You didn't get any sleep at all last night, did you?" Forsythe shook his head, rolling his eyes when Jarvan glared at him. Forsythe was having a hard time controlling his laughter, a smile spreading over his face as Jarvan continued to shoot him dirty looks.

"Bite me, you sarcastic little shit." Jarvan growled, picking his lance up and laying it over his shoulder. He yawned again, trying to smother it with his hand, but he could shake the lack of sleep off. "Quinn headed out already?"

"She did, yeah." Forsythe looked slightly downtrodden, but he shrugged it off. He looked down the road towards the south, in the direction he had come from the day before. "She wanted to get a head start on her journey back towards Kalamanda. I tried to wake you two up to say goodbye, but you were both still dead out." Forsythe frowned. "Must have been up late to oversleep by that much." He grinned at Jarvan and watched as his prince scowled, turning away to finish his tinkering with his backpack.

"You might wanna just stow it now, before I have to knock your teeth down your throat." Jarvan growled. "I don't enjoy having people try to dissect my personal life, despite being a Prince."

"Yeah, boss, I understand." Forsythe said, his voice fading a bit as he sighed heavily. Jarvan turned and looked at his friend. _What's wrong with you, Forsythe, you're not acting like yourself._

"Everything alright, Forsythe?" Jarvan set a hand on the man's shoulder. Forsythe looked up at him with pain in his eyes, but shrugged it off, covering it with a smile.

"Yeah, just a bit sad." Forsythe said with a sad grin tugging at his mouth. "All good things have to come to an end, ya know?" Jarvan nodded and chuckled softly.

"If you must know, Shyvana wanted to hear tales of what it's like in Demacia." Jarvan sighed, a fondness that spoke of who was on his mind seeping into his voice. He pulled his helm off and ran a hand through his black hair, drawing his bangs back over his head. He pulled his helm back on and strapped it in place under his chin. "I wanted to know a bit more about dragons as a species. We spent the better part of the night swapping stories."

"Oh..." Forsythe looked slightly downtrodden, as if he had expected something else. "Well that's no fun." He sighed and shrugged again, chuckling as the scowl returned to Jarvan's face. The door opened and Jarvan and Forsythe both turned to watch as Shyvana emerged from within, pulling her cloak over her shoulders and clipping it in place. She settled it in place over her shoulders and then tugged the armor plates she had been given by Jarvan into place, trying to settle them on her body.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you wait." She slid to a stop, her arms flailing, nearly crashing into Jarvan as her boots skidded on the ice. She wobbled momentarily before Jarvan caught her. He lifted her from the ice and set her onto the cobblestone road, looking over her to ensure she hadn't hurt herself. She blushed and glanced away.

"Take a second and calm yourself." Jarvan said with a fond look on his face. "It's only a few hours walk to Demacia." Shyvana nodded nervously, and Jarvan could read a bit of tension in her body. She took a deep breath and exhaled, steam rolling from her nose as she beamed at Jarvan.

"You look like you slept really well." Forsythe said, watching a color flooded Shyvana's face and she stared at the ground, tugging the front of her tunic down across her body. She definitely looked radiant, and Forsythe couldn't help but grin at Jarvan. The prince continued to scowl at him and Forsythe chuckled, causing Shyvana to glance back and forth between the two men. Jarvan sighed and waved Forsythe off. Shyvana frowned but looked up at Jarvan and nodded. She did seem to glow, her cheeks a bit rosy, the tip of her nose pink, and her skin was brighter than normal, a bit of color in her skin tone. Jarvan blushed when she met his gaze and smiled at him, causing him to glance away nervously.

"I'm ready to go." She laughed as Jarvan tried to shake his nerves off. She slid up next to Jarvan and laced her finger into his, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Good, I'm ready to get back!" Forsythe said, injecting himself into the conversation, a wry smile stretching onto his face. "It's been so long that I've almost forgotten what Demacia looked like."

"Where's home for you, Forsythe?" Shyvana said, glancing over at the towheaded soldier.

"I never really had a home." Forsythe said, lacing his hands behind his head and looking to the blue sky as he took off at an easy pace, letting Jarvan and Shyvana behind him fall into wake along the recently plowed road. "Though if I had to say, home for me is the Demacian Martial Barracks." He shrugged. "Anywhere I'm stationed where I can get three hot meals a day and eight hours is good enough for me. I've been a part of one branch of the military or another for as long as I can remember, and before that, the docks were my home."

"You lived down by the ocean?" Shyvana said with a smile, leaning forward so she could see Forsythe around Jarvan.

"Yep." Forsythe grinned, though it had lost much of its shine, his voice taking on a somber tone. "I grew up a street urchin, bouncing around different warehouses, eating scraps from restaurants and what little I could buy with money I scraped together doing odd jobs to support myself and my-..." His voice trailed off and Forsythe's pace slowed just a tad as he stared at the ground, blushing.

"Your what?" Shyvana asked, her curiosity now piqued.

"It's nothing." Forsythe said, his eyes a bit dimmer than normal. "Just some bad memories from when I used to be a gutter rat."

"Oh... I didn't mean to pry." Shyvana said nervously, blushing.

"Nah, don't worry about it." Forsythe said, injecting happiness into his voice. "That was a long time ago. I did my time and then I got picked out by the prince here and well, the rest is history."

"I'd hope it's not history yet." Jarvan said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not quite ready to be an entry in a history book." Forsythe looked surprised, but he let out a hearty chuckle, the warmth returning to his voice.

"No, I don't expect I'm ready either." Forsythe walked a bit lighter, the spring back in his step. Forsythe slowed for a moment, and then lifted one foot into the air, staring down at a leather strap that now hung loose around his ankle. Jarvan and Shyvana took several steps further before they had to turn to look back at why their remaining traveling companion had slowed to a halt. "Damnit." He looked to Jarvan. "I'mma fix this real quick, give me a minute."

Jarvan nodded. "Take your time." Forsythe dropped to one knee and started tinkering with his boot, trying to get the leather strap to fit back into the buckle.

"What's wrong with Forsythe?" Shyvana said quietly, crossing his arms over her chest.

"I don't know..." Jarvan murmured. "His story... his story usually ends with 'supporting myself,' and that's it."

"But his story didn't end there this time." Shyvana said quietly, looking down at the young man again as he kneeled over his boot.

"Exactly."

"And he's never mentioned this before?" Shyvana gave him a quizzical look.

"Never." Jarvan frowned, looking at his remaining soldier. "I... wonder if there is someone else in his life..."

"You think it's a woman?" Shyvana looked down at the young soldier, his blonde hair bouncing as he jerked the leather strap into place. Jarvan shrugged, watching Forsythe as he pushed himself to his feet.

"We ready to go?" Forsythe smiled at both Jarvan and Shyvana in turn. "What were you talking about just now?"

"Not much." Shyvana said, shrugging. "Just about how sore I am from last night." She turned, giving Jarvan a devious grin, and shooting Forsythe a look that challenged his beliefs. She chuckled at the dumbstruck look on both of their faces, though her tread fell short when she stepped back towards the road. "Jarvan..."

"So that's what you two did..." Forsythe said slyly. "I thought Shyvana was glowing a bit much." He grinned imperiously, staring down his nose at Jarvan. Though they were of similar height and build, Jarvan couldn't help but be nervous at the feeling of vulnerability it gave him to have his life suddenly split so open to one of his men. "Don't worry, prince." Forysthe chuckled and slapped Jarvan on the shoulder. "And of course the princess too."

"I WILL take you down a peg, Forsythe." Jarvan growled.

"Jarvan..." Shyvana murmured, tugging on his sleeve.

"Damnit." Jarvan scratched his head, sighing. "I asked you not to tell anyone, Shyvana." Her hand dropped away from his and she took a step back away from Jarvan, glancing at him and then glancing down to the ground. "Shy?"

"Jarvan, heads up." Forsythe's voice had gone quiet as he took a half step forward, spreading his feet into a defensive stance. "We've got incoming."

Jarvan's eyes were drawn to the road as the sound of horse hooves striking the cobbles started to echo along the snow covered houses and trees that lined the road. Clad in blue, white and golden armor, a column of soldiers approached, marching down the middle of the road. Peasants and commoners moved to the side, parting to let the column move through.

"Who is that?" Shyvana said quietly.

"I suspect they're the welcoming party." Forsythe said, a tight smile upon his lips. "Valor knights... a whole fucking company of them." A smile spread on Shyvana's face as she stood up and looked down over the knights as the approached their position. Each knight was mounted upon a horse and each bore a lance in hand, the bladed head held high, a standard flapping in the brisk morning breeze. Their helmets were crested by crimson plumes, and their golden plated armor gleamed in the morning sun. Their horses were similarly armored, with long blue skirts and golden armor around the horses necks. They moved in unison, the echoing of their hooves already engraved in Jarvan ears.

"You make it sound like a bad thing." Shyvana said, her smile fading from her face when she saw the glum look on Jarvan's face. "It's not a bad thing, is it?"

"I don't think so..." Forsythe said, growling. "Though a company of Valor Knights is rarely met with good circumstances... or resistance."

The company ground to a halt as they approached Jarvan and his two companions. Atop the lead horse, a man with brown hair and blue eyes looked down at the group. He narrowed his eyes as they passed over the two men and then over Shyvana, and even off the horse, he towered over them. He wore a blue scarf around his neck against the day's chill, despite the sunshine that covered the land. A massive sword hung at his waist. Shyvana looked up at him, watching as his glare passed over him again. She shivered.

"Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV?" The man's voice was firm and officious, extremely military.

"Captain Garen Crownguard." Jarvan's voice was stiff as he spoke the name, and a frown creased his brow.

"Please present your seal, sir." Garen's voice had stiffened noticeably, and the tension was audible in the winter air. Jarvan sighed, but nodded. He pulled collar of his tunic down, and pulled out a small golden coin that hung on a golden chain around his neck. He doffed his helm and then pulled the necklace over his head, shaking his black hair back into place. He held the coin and chain out for Garen to accept.

"Please remove the seal from the collar, sir." Garen said, still waiting. Jarvan shot him a dark look but nodded, pulling the coin from the rubber collar it was set in. Jarvan palmed the golden chain and then handed the coin to Garen, who finally accepted it.

"What's that?" Shyvana whispered to Forsythe, both of them standing slightly off to the side. Forsythe glanced down at her and the looked back to the coin and collar.

"It's the seal of his birthright." Forsythe said, nodding slightly. "A special coin that is engraved with the seal of his family, the Lightshield dynasty. It is proof that he is Jarvan IV, and not an imposter."

"Oh." Shyvana nodded slightly and hid her hands beneath her cloak, rubbing them together nervously.

Garen inspected the coin, setting it atop a small golden box. He pressed the coin into the surface of the box, watching as the box began to hum and glow a golden sheen. A crest appeared above the box, depicting winged lines flanking a circular buckler of blue amethyst. They held swords crossed over the shield and they had emeralds for eyes. Along the bottom, the word _Lightshield _marked the crest.

"Happy now?" Jarvan growled. Garen returned the coin to his hand and waited till the prince had returned the coin to its collar and tucked it inside his tunic. Garen proffered his hand, the speed of the movement surprising Shyvana. A smile crossed his face.

"Welcome back, my friend." Jarvan clasped his arm in his and matched his smile, though tight lipped. Garen clasped his shoulder with his free hand. "It's reassuring to see you in good health."

"It's good to be back." Jarvan said, nodding. "I assume my father sent you?"

"He did." Garen said with a soft chuckle. "We should get moving, we're expected back." He waved over his shoulder and heard the clop of hooves on the cobbles. A rider came forth with three horses in tow, offering the reins to Garen. He nodded his thanks and then handed a pair of reins to Jarvan, who accepted and nodded his thanks.

"You can explain things in the mean time." Jarvan said, strapping his pack onto the horse's back, just behind the saddle. Jarvan gestured to Forsythe and Shyvana. "You remember Forsythe, correct?" Forsythe tried to smile, but the gesture faltered.

"Of course." Garen said. Forsythe saluted promptly, and Garen returned it, extending his hand after dropping the salute. Forsythe shook his hand briefly, accepting a set of reins from his and then setting about mounting his pack on the horse. He turned to look at Shyvana. He paused then turned back to Jarvan. "I was under the impression that two of your men had survived. Not one and a peasent woman."

"Watch your tongue." Jarvan snapped, surprising Garen. "This is Shyvana, a brave warrior who saved my life. You shall show her the same respect you show me." Garen glanced from Jarvan to Shyvana, shooting her a dirty look to mask his surprise.

He bowed. "My apologies." He passed the last set of reins to Shyvana and then turned, mounting up quickly. "We'll head to the front of the column and then we'll head back, sire." Jarvan turned to Shyvana as if to offer his apologies, but before he could open his mouth to speak, Garen spoke again. "Please, your highness, we must hurry. Time is of the essence."

Jarvan looked to Shyvana and nodded apologetically as they mounted up. She shrugged and offered him a subdued smile. Shyvana fell in along his right side, and Fosythe the opposite side of the prince as he turned his horse and snapped the reins, pushing the horse into a canter to catch up with Garen.

"So Garen, care to explain exactly why you rolled out the red carpet for my return?" Jarvan slowed his horse as he came alongside the Demacian Knight.

"Your father has had rangers watching you since you returned to the north side of the Great Barrier." Garen said watching the road as they moved towards the head of the column. "They lost you for a short period of time when you passed through the Evergeen Valley, but they picked you back up when you left Noxus. The captain wished for me to express his condolences for being unable to help you, he was under direct orders to observe and report directly to your father." Garen shrugged. "When you rented a room at the Laughing Yordle, the rangers who were tracking you reported back. I had returned several days earlier from Kalamanda myself and I offered to escort you back into the city."

"I see." Jarvan said, frowning. "What's happened in Kalamanda? We haven't heard much in the way of news in the past month or two."

"Quite a bit actually." Garen said, frowning, looking down towards the neck of his horse. He slowed the animal as he approached the middle of the formation, a soldier riding from the front towards him. "Tunis, what's wrong?"

"Sir, we have several trade wagons approaching." The man was dark of hair and skin, and though he had a soft voice, it didn't lack for intensity. "Permission to take the column off the road?"

"Do it, Tunis." Garen said nodding. "As soon as they pass, lead us back to the city, I'll fall in with the prince and his two companion between platoons two and three."

"Sir." The officer barked and spun his horse about, taking off at a gallop.

"Pardon the delays." Garen growled, shaking his head. "This is part of the issue right now. There was a huge mineral deposit discovered earlier this year not far outside Kalamanda proper, and many miners and prospectors have been flocking to the city. With the rapid influx of people, the city requested aid in the way of food and supplies. We had a bountiful harvest this past year and we offered to send some of our surplus as a token of goodwill to the city with hopes of garnering favor with the mayor and the council."

"It wasn't that long ago that we had ventured into Kalamanda ourselves." Forsythe said. "I don't remember there being much in the way of a martial presence there. Not anything out of the ordinary at least."

"We only recently expanded our presence out of the fields on the west side of town." Garen said frowning. The Noxians moved forces into the city not long after you left, after a platoon of legionaries were offed." Jarvan glanced at Shyvana and she gave him a nervous but knowing smile. "We reinforced our presence, and I was given command of the garrison there, and I've been dealing with Katarina Du Couteau to maintain an uneasy peace between the mounting forces there. There's been some trouble, as the town isn't really equipped or large enough to deal with the troops now stationed there, but there hasn't been any real conflict within the last few weeks." The column had moved off the road, and several large wagons, each dragged by a team of four horses trundled past. Guards of the supply column watched the company of soldiers warily, but they offered no words.

"I see." Jarvan said, frowning. "What brings you back to Demacia then, Garen? I heard you had joined the Institute of War, the League of Legends." .

"Indeed." Garen nodded. "I joined up a while ago as the first emissary of Demacia. With Noxus holding a strong position within the League, the king decided we needed to begin expanding our circle of influence into the League as well. I was the first to join, though it wasn't long afterward when Xin Zhao joined me at the Institute. Lady Sona Buvelle and my younger sister, Luxanna joined as well, not but a few months ago." The column grew anxious, murmurs passing through the men, as the last of the wagons dragged past. The column moved back onto the road, both man and horse moving into formation on the road. Garen whistled and spun his hand high above his head. The column shuddered and lurched forward as they began moving towards the city.

"How's Lux doing, I haven't seen her since she was a child." Jarvan said, smiling. The young blonde had followed the two boys around whenever she had been able, though she had been sent to the Demacian Academy not long before Jarvan had run into Swain and lost his company.

"She's fine." Garen said, shrugging. "She's outwardly cheerful, but she hasn't been happy in a long while." Garen frowned, his massive shoulders swaying as he starred off towards the ocean, which was now a silver ribbon upon the horizon. "She won't talk to me about it. Recently she's been shut up in her room of the academy library."

"Sounds like someone I know." Forsythe said, chuckling. Shyvana glanced over at him and Forsythe grinned and pointed at Jarvan.

Shyvana smiled as she watched Garen and Jarvan continue to converse.

_So this is what Demacia is like..._

* * *

"The great Eastern Gate of Demacia." Jarvan gestured to the massive wall of clean, golden grey stone, rising up from ground towards the sky like the mountains of the great barrier. The stone wall was accented with stone blocks that were a pale gray marbled with blue, and a pair of massive lions stood sentinel along either side of the gate. Emeralds seemed to glow in their eyes, and golden claws and manes served to only add to the statues' beauty. Shyvana had to crane her neck as soldier patrolled the top of the wall, archers carrying bows and mages with hoods hiding their face, all of them moving along the wall, vigilant for any threat.

Shyvana took pause as she approached the gates of the great city state of Demacia. The towering spires rose toward the sky with gentle curves, walkways bridging the gaps and interconnecting the city. Arches and almost feminine beauty dominated the landscape, the blue and gold colors accenting the gold and green architecture. Fluffy white snow covered much of the city, but it only added to the charm and beauty. Demacia stretched out in every direction for what looked like miles, rising up to a pinnacle around the great halls of the Demacian Royal Palace. It was truly a sight to behold, the polished golden stone accented with beautiful golden accents and decorations. Green spires curled towards the sky in every direction, the skyline rippling like the peaks of the sea.

_This is a whole new beast... _Shyvana shook her head; she didn't want to think of this as something she needed to defeat, but something to embrace. _This is my home now._ She looked back to Jarvan. _As long as he is here, it shall be my new home._

"It seems a bit smaller than I remember." Forsythe said with a wry grin. He craned his neck back to watch as they passed under a large arch.

"It's not smaller, you're just taller." Jarvan laughed. "Two years have passed and you've gained six inches, easy, Forsythe." The towheaded knight blushed, scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah, yeah..." He muttered and Shyvana couldn't help but smile.

"So this is Demacia..." Shyvana practically whispered, staring up and over her shoulder at the massive arch that formed the gateway into the city. "It's gorgeous..."

"You actually entered Demacia yesterday." Garen said, looking over his shoulder at the dragoness. "Demacia is a large kingdom, though Demacia Proper, the actual capital, isn't very large."

"It's larger than any city I've ever been to..." Shyvana said, still in awe. They moved through another gateway, and immediately Shyvana's jaw fell open. She stared up as the world around her seemed to transform. Buildings of stone and marble rose up on either side of the street, and people stopped to watch the procession. Men, women and children crowded into the street to watch at the knights marched past, their standards held high and their horses trotting happily and in time. "There's so many people..." Shyvana blushed as Jarvan sat higher in his saddle and smiled. He glanced back over his shoulder and gave her a confident grin.

"We only just entered the city... this is nothing." He chuckled as Shyvana blushed again, watching in awe as more people poured into the streets to watch the column of knights move past. Shyvana shrank back at all of the cheering that echoed around them. Jarvan couldn't keep the grin off of his face as the cheers rose up as he silently lifted his lance above his head and pumped it up and down. Shyvana blushed as she attracted stares, glares and curious glances as she rode victoriously though the streets just behind Jarvan and to the right.

"Cheer up, girly!"

Shyvana glanced over her shoulder. She glanced about, looking for the source of the voice, but there wasn't anything to be seen. Shyvana felt a pang of grief in her heart. She could see it now. Isaacs wore a cocky little grin. He raised an arm and waved to a knot of slightly older women, several of them glancing aside and blushing as he gave them a proud and imperious glance, sitting up taller in his saddle, the missing leg hidden behind the horse.

"He'd probably say something like 'Cheer up, this is a joyous occasion!'" Shyvana glowered down at the back of her horses neck, gripping the reins with white knuckled fists.

"You alright, Shy?" Jarvan had slowed, and though he continued to smile and wave to the many citizens who watched along the sidewalks, Shyvana could see the worry in his eyes.

"Yeah, I think so." She gave him a brave smile and looked back to the crowds, trying to smile at the many young children who looked up at her with admiration."I just... I've never dealt with this sort of attention."

"What about when you were fighting in the Noxian Coliseum?" Forsythe said with a sly grin. "If Jarvan's stories are true at all... you were enjoying the crowd plenty while you tried to kill him. Just smile and wave!"

"What?" Garen looked aghast. "She tried to do what to you in Noxus?" His hand stole away to his blade upon his hip, but Jarvan chuckled, waving him off.

"No, not like that." He said, still struggling not to laugh. "It was just a bit of confusion is all." Jarvan shot Forsythe an accusing glare, but the younger solder shrugged it off and turned his attention back to the many young women who had flocked out to see the knights. "You were getting into it though." Jarvan glanced at Shyvana giving her a sly grin.

Shyvana blushed furiously, the memory playing in her mind. "Yes but no one could see my face."

"It's so cute though." Jarvan interjected, pointing to her with a grin. "Why hide it?" Shyvana smiled but blushed even harder, her face nearly the same color as her bright red hair.

"I guess." Shyvana said, her finger slowly circling along the top of the saddle. She looked towards the crowd. She smiled meekly at the masses as they seemed to meld together; a huge number of people had come out to see the return of their missing prince. Shyvana cast a fleeting glance Jarvan. _It's been over two years since he had left the city and disappeared into the night with twelve men in tow. Now, he has returned with his armor adorned with the claws and fangs of the fiercest of creatures, only a single survivor accompanying him of the original twelve. What will people think when they realize what... who he's become? _Shyvana did her best to smile as she waved to some young men and women in the crowd. The women looked scorning but the men blushed red, smiles spreading upon their face.

"See, the boys swoon and the ladies scowl with jealousy." Forsythe said with a chuckle. "Just wait till word gets out that you're not just a member of his guard..." He grinned, raising his eyebrow above the empty socket, his good eye twinkling mischievously. Shyvana blushed furiously, ducking her head, thinking to the night she had shared with Jarvan. "You'll singlehandedly become the enemy of every woman in Demacia."

"Enough of your idle gossip, Forsythe, you sound like Isaacs." Jarvan growled, a tinge of bitterness in his voice that belayed the smile he wore on his face. Shyvana tried to put a smile back on her face at the spotlight that Jarvan had been isolated in. His face was red with color as well, and she felt her heart warm just a bit knowing he was just as nervous as she was about it. She didn't particularly enjoy his discomfort, but she couldn't help but smile at the ribbing he was receiving.

"Why would they hate me?" Shyvana whispered to Jarvan, frowning as the prince glanced away as if he was avoiding her question. Forsythe trotted forward between them, a lopsided grin on his face. He leaned forward in his saddle, grinning, his voice low.

"You are being courted by the single most important bachelor in Valoran right now." He pointed discreetly at Jarvan. "Power, charisma, money and not to mention good looks," Forsythe nudged Shyvana in the side with a grin as he whispered. "I'd be careful if someone didn't try to steal him away from you." Shyvana shot him a dirty look, but her anger was immediately extinguished as they rounded a corner and turned onto the main thoroughfare.

Shyvana's jaw fell open as they straightened out, the thunderous roar of the crowds echoing off the towering structures that lined both sides of the road. Though the trees were bare, the snow that still rested on their branches gave them a beautiful appearance. A gust of wind disturbed the snow and sent it powdering to the ground, some of it getting swept up in the light breeze that teased the flags along the street. The blue and gold banners fluttered in the breeze along the buildings that towered above the street along every building. Men, women and children lined windows, balconies and the sides of the street as Jarvan and his small band proudly trotted forward amid the company of knights.

The roar of the crowd was deafening.

As they approached the end of the gently curving boulevard, the tallest structure in the entire city came into view as they turned the last corner. Situated on the highest point of the cape, the palace looked like it was made of shimmering gold. Spires reached up higher than the mountains and the gently green curves of the roof were ornate and pretty. Standards hung along the massive flying buttresses, and towers sat atop the great pillars that radiated out from the center structure.

"It's massive." Shyvana whispered. "I've never seen something so large..."

"We're still about a kilometer out." Jarvan said with a smile. Shyvana's eyes grew wide.

"You mean..." She stammered already craning her neck to look up at the spires that surrounded her, and along the long boulevard, spires continued to rise up. "Oh, wow." She immediately reconsidered just how large the highest tower was. They passed through another set of walls, though these were much smaller than the towering monstrosities that they had passed into the city.

The roar of the crowd started to fade.

"Demacia prides herself on having some of the tallest structures in all of Valoran, and the Palace stands out as a shining beacon of the Demacian Ideal." Garen said officially. Shyvana continued to watch the highest point of the Palace, a blue and gold flag atop the highest spire, as it seemed to get higher and higher in the sky. Shyvana was surprised, around her, a field of snow, punctuated by trees and bushes stretched out, the Demacian Palace marking the center of the open area. The column turned left and began to wrap around as the palace began to eclipse the sky. The front-most of the flying buttress towers was surrounded by light blue and gold flowers, and a fountain that sat at the base.

A massive door stood open and waiting, guards lining the steps that led up to the main door into the palace.

"Wow..." She whispered, her voice getting caught in her throat. Jarvan grabbed her hand and gaze it a squeeze. She looked over at him, her face slightly flushed, her voice gone as she looked the prince with large eyes.

"Welcome home." He said with a smile. Shyvana nodded, a grin on her face.


	3. Chapter 2: King Jarvan III

Garen lead them into the massive greeting hall of the Demacian palace. Flanked along each side by all of his forefathers, Jarvan IV recognized two men immortalized in gold as he stopped along the plush blue carpet that covered the smooth, dressed-stone floor. He looked up at his Grandfather, Jarvan II and then to his immediate left, Jarvan I, the first of the Lightshield Dynasty.

_A few words of wisdom would be useful right about now._

"Who is that?" Shyvana asked as she stepped up to his side and yanked him back to reality, looking up at the massive golden statue.

"Jarvan Lightshield II, my grandfather." Jarvan said quietly, feeling miniscule next to his grandfather's statue. It rose up many times his height, and while it was domineering in sheer stature, that wasn't the only thing that made him feel small. His grandfather's legacy towered over him everywhere he looked, the reformed Demacian Military much of his grandfather's doing. It was something he had strived to eclipse up until not long ago. Jarvan felt his brow crease, but he turned away, shaking his head and clearing his mind with a deep breath.

"He was a great man." Garen said, his voice still stiff. He gestured to the large doors at the far end of the greeting hall where several guards stood posted. "Please, sire, your father and mother are waiting."

"Of course." Jarvan said gruffly, shaking his head. "I was merely being sentimental." He cast one last glance at the statue of his grandfather and then followed in Garen's wake. Shyvana started to follow after him but stopped and stared up at the statue, a frown marring her face.

"You okay?" Forsythe stood behind Shyvana, watching Jarvan retreat after Garen. Shyvana watched them go and looked to Forsythe, mix of emotions on her face.

"Yeah," Shyvana shook her head. "I've just got a bad feeling about this, like I'm walking into a trap."

"You know Jarvan would never purposefully hurt you, right?" Forsythe put a hand on her shoulder. "Hell, he'd probably try his damnedest to make sure you didn't get hurt at all if he could help it." Forsythe ran a hand over his head as he started following in the wake of the Jarvan and Garen.

"I know." Shyvana said, her brow furrowing as she followed after him. "I just... I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to see him after this. I'm scared about meeting the king and queen too; I don't think they're going to approve of me."

"Well, honestly Miss Shyvana, I can't think of a reason they wouldn't like you." Forsythe tried to say encouragingly. "Well, aside from the fact that they know nothing about you... and that you're not Demacian... And you've got a bit of a temper..." Shyvana glanced over at Forsythe and glared at him, hoping the towheaded soldier would catch on. "And you nearly beheaded Jarvan... and you totally just fuc-OW!" He rubbed his arm where Shyvana had punched the armored plates that covered his shoulder.

Shyvana rolled her eyes and growled, but the sound died in her throat. _And the whole turning into a giant fire-breathing dragon thing._ She shook her head as Forsythe continued to rub his shoulder beneath a black, smoking, fist-shaped dent in his shoulder pauldron. She sighed, letting her shoulders sink. "Well, my mother was Demacian." She paused. "I think..."

"That's the spirit." Forsythe said, chuckling, obviously doing his best to try and cheer the dragoness up.

"Hey Forsythe?" Shyvana said, looking over at the blonde soldier as she fell into pace with him.

"What's up?" He smiled cheekily.

"You suck at cheering people up."

"Sorry." Forsythe sighed as he was overcome with a fit of chuckles. Shyvana waited til he finally calmed down before she fitted him with a fiery glare, which only served to make the warrior giggle. She waved him off, moving in the direction her prince had disappeared in, leaving Forsythe to try and recover from his laughter. Forsythe jogged to catch up, waving a hand in front of his face as he gasped for air. "I just tried to do what Isaacs did for me. I guess I don't have the asinine sense of humor to make it work."

"It's the thought that counts." Shyvana said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "We should catch up."

"Right, uh, this way." Forsythe said, waving her towards the large doors at the end of the hall. Shyvana nodded and followed quietly after him, still looking around the palace in awe. They passed through a number of intersections, Guards posted everywhere, but none of them seemed to pay attention to Shyvana or Forsythe. Several times, Shyvana could have sworn she caught several following them with their eyes, but as soon as they noticed her glare they became virtual statues, their eyes glued to the wall. Torches and great skylights lit the long hallways as Forsythe jogged to catch up with Garen and Jarvan. Blue and red furnished much of the palace, with great tapestries trimmed in gold showing every sort of thing that Shyvana could only guess about. She slowed her pace as they fell in behind Jarvan, listening in to the conversation the two Demacaian soldiers seemed to be lost amid.

"What do you mean?" Jarvan growled. Anger showed on his face, and while Garen looked apologetic, the frown darkened the look to that of concentration.

"I don't know, I haven't heard but so much about it." Garen said shrugging. "But apparently, Noxus offered to give Ionia a rematch after only seven years of the occupation period. Nobody knows why though."

"That doesn't make any sense." Jarvan growled, clenching a fist and staring down at the ground. "Why would Darkwill offer the rematch eight years early?"

"Now you understand why Demacia is mobilizing." Garen said, turning to look out a tall window as he passed. "We don't know what sort of tricks Noxus has in store and we want to be ready for anything. This may be the Institute of War's domain, but we have a right to support our allies and to secure our borders. That's why the military is moving to fortify all of our outlying holds along our border with Noxus."

"And what has my father said about this?" Jarvan asked.

"He's spoken with Ionian diplomats on the issue and offered his support, both in domestic affairs and military power." Garen sighed, frowning. "He seems to be in favor of the rematch despite the obvious ulterior motives that have yet to be revealed. If Ionia is liberated, that opens up a number of trade treaty options for Demacia and we're rapidly trying to cement our ties with both Ionia and Piltover."

"I don't like it." Jarvan said, his back tensing up as they were stopped by palace guards outside a large set of wooden doors. They were inlaid with a golden etching of a lion's head, and Guards moved up behind them, holding weapons at the ready.

"I don't either, but politicians have deemed it the best course of action. Even the Council is in favor of it." Shyvana could hear the loathing in his voice as Garen turned to look to the officer who had approached. While he didn't wear the same helm as the other Palace Guardsmen, he had the same armor and a crimson sash that ran from his right shoulder to his left hip, a golden medallion holding it in place on the blue cloak that he wore.

"Colonel Walkurze." Garen said, nodding to the man. The colonel met his gaze and nodded to him curtly as he glanced over the three who had followed in his wake.

"Guests of the court, Captain Crownguard?" He said, casting a sneering glare over Shyvana before turning to stare back at Jarvan. The Prince's eyes darkened in anger, holding his lance at his side, his fist flexing around the barrel of the lance. The colonel looked over him again and suddenly his eyes shot fully open as he bowed. "Apologies, Prince Lightshield!" He snapped. "I didn't recognize you. Welcome home, sire!"

"Thank you." Jarvan said tersely, giving the colonel a polite but tight lipped smile.

"You'll have to turn over your weapons, sir." The colonel said hesitantly. Jarvan looked to Garen who shrugged but nodded. "Apologies, sir. Standard procedure for those who are-... who are not common members of the king's court." Jarvan glowered, but nodded, handing his lance to the Guardsman who stepped up and held out a hand for the weapon. Jarvan pulled the knife off the back of his belt and then the blade in his right boot, turning them both over to the guard. Jarvan stepped back as the men eyed the the fangs and talons that dotted his armor along his forearm guards and his shoulder pauldrons. The colonel waved them off.

"Happy now?" Jarvan growled. The colonel looked to Forsythe and then Shyvana, his eyes hovering a bit too long on her for his comfort.

"Your companions will need to turn over any weapons they have, as well." Shyvana glanced at Jarvan and he nodded. Shyvana pulled the massive dragon's head gauntlets out from under her cloak and proffered them to the guardsman who stepped up to meet her. He accepted them but continued to wait as if he expected more weapons to be produced. Shyvana took a step back.

"Is that it?" The colonel looked surprised. "An undersized shield and buckler?"

"I don't fight like most people." Shyvana said quietly.

"I see." The colonel's gaze tightened, but he turned to Forsythe who was still pulling weapons from his person. The colonel's mouth fell open slightly as Forsythe deposited a folding ax, a number of large knives, a shield, and so many other weapons another soldier had to step forward to hold them all. He dropped two throwing hatchets, a set of throwing knives, four bolos, a set of spiked brass knuckles, two satchel charges, a stick of dynamite, a katana, a chain sickle, and a large rock into the waiting arms of the soldiers.

"Good lord, Forsythe." Jarvan said, shaking his head with an exasperated sigh. "I understand you like collecting weapons, but why the rock?"

"I like be prepared, so sue me." Forsythe said, watching as the colonel's eyes grew wide when Forsythe lifted the massive rock in a single hand, tossing it up and catching it several times. "You never know when you'll need something to bash someone's head in. Rocks are useful. They can also tell you the weather." Forsythe raised his hand in a gesture to wait as he reaching onto the back of his belt, fiddling with something below his tunic. He smiled as he finally dropped a wicked looking curved combat knife with a spike on the pommel into the second Guardsman's arms and then took a step back. "That's it."

"Where were you keeping it all?" Shyvana said, blinking several times, clearly impressed. "And how can rocks tell the weather?"

"Here and there." Forsythe said with a grin. "It's pretty easy actually. All you have to do is take the rock out and set it on the ground and wait a few minutes. If the rock is wet, it's raining. If the rock is hot, it's sunny, if the rock is white, it's-..."

"Enough. Fine, fine." The colonel shook his head as Jarvan and Shyvana chuckled at the colonel's expense. "Follow me." He nodded to the Guardsmen who stood by the door, each soldier pushing the door in and allowing them to pass through. Garen led first, just behind Colonel Walkurze, and then Jarvan with Shyvana staying close to him, and Forsythe bringing up the rear. Two guardsmen followed them from behind, weapons at the ready in case anyone tried anything funny. Shyvana's eyes grew wide as they moved into the throne room. Windows stretched up towards the sky, sunshine casting long pillars of light along the floor, shadows hiding an untold number of soldiers along either side of the massive hall. The ceiling was dark, hidden by shadows high above, massive gold and blue banners descending from high above. Beautiful tapestries hung on either side of the hall, depicting knights in battle and arcane magic exploding like the heavens were angry with the world. Garen stopped short and stepped off to the side, watching as Jarvan nodded and then moved past. He eyed Shyvana uncomfortably, but her eyes were elsewhere, taking in the beauty of the throne room.

"King Lighshield III and Lady Catherine, I present Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV and company." Colonel Walkurze gestured with a wide sweeping motion to the three who had followed him as they approached the throne. They stopped twenty feet short of the steps that led up to where a man and a woman sat atop ornate thrones. Though it was on a raised platform, steps led up to the large golden throne. Atop the throne sat a man with a thick black beard, though silver was beginning to creep in along the edges. He wore dark gray armor trimmed with gold and a sweeping red cloak that billowed around him as he stood, the loose blue tunic he wore over his chest armor depicting the crest of Demacia, similar to the one Jarvan wore. He wore light colored gloves with golden gauntlets, and a brown cloak was wrapped around his neck, despite the large fires that burned on either side of the throne room. A magnificent golden crown, tipped with rubies sat perched on his head. He stepped down towards the group, glaring menacingly at the colonel when he opened his mouth to protest. His strides were long but unhurried, with a grace that befit his rank and told of his nobility, rather than the years that wore heavily on him.

He had piercing ice-blue eyes that forfeited no years to his son, and though the younger Lightshield had several inches in height and a decent bit of bulk, there was a distinctive aura that the king gave off that set them apart. Confidence and power poured off of him like the heat Shyvana felt burning her cheeks. He glanced at Shyvana with those piercing, ice-blue eyes, and though she felt a mix of nervousness and fear welling in her mind, she straightened up a bit and met his gaze with an even expression. He was youthful in the face, only the slightest sign of wrinkles forming around his eyes betraying his real age. Shyvana shivered as his eyes seemed to pierce into her soul. Garen, Colonel Walkurze and Forsythe all bowed, and Shyvana soon followed suit. She stole a glance away and watched as the others returned to their standing position, both Garen and Forsythe falling in at parade rest while Jarvan stood defiant, staring down at his father.

Shyvana could feel the tension in the air, like the night before a fierce battle when men knew they might not return. Jarvan's pale, gray-blue eyes locked with his father's intense, ice blue glare and they simply stared at each other for a long time, utter silence filling the hall.

Jarvan glanced at Shyvana and she blushed, staring at the ground when the king's gaze followed that of his son. "Father..."

"Two years." Jarvan III's voice was deeper and slightly more gravelly than his son, though it carried the same intensity that his eyes shown. "Two long years you abandoned your kingdom of your own volition. The blood of one-hundred and twenty eight of Demacia's finest were on your hands and now you choose to return after all of that... but not before nearly starting a war in Noxus."

His voice faded out as Shyvana watched the muscles bunch up at the corners of her Jarvan's mouth. _A father should be pleased to see his son..._ She felt her hands convulse into fists. _This isn't how a reunion of family should be... I would have given anything to see my father again._ She gritted her teeth, and realized that she had started to let heat pour off of her body. She took a deep breath and calmed herself.

"I'm surprised you had the nerve to come back after pulling a stunt like that." The king narrowed his ice-blue eyes. Shyvana watched as something dangerous clouded them, as if they were darkening like a thunderstorm about the erupt from the heavens. A smile began to spread on his face, but he checked it at the last moment, though Shyvana watched it spread into his eyes.

At that, the woman stood and seemed to float down the stairs, though she wore a broad smile that showed just how excited she was to see her son. "Welcome home my son." She said, getting wrapped up in a bear hug from her son, who towered over her. "Jarvan, it's so good to see you!"

"It's good to see you as well, mother." Jarvan said, hugging her tightly, almost lifting her off her feet. The woman stood back and looked him up and down. "You haven't changed a bit." She cocked her head to the side.

"You haven't either." She said smiling at him. "Maybe a bit taller, but you're as handsome as I remember." She smiled broadly and her eyes sparkled as she looked over her son. The king didn't share her enthusiasm though, and he stepped up to his throne and sat down, exhaling heavily.

"Before we conduct any further business, I demand two things." The king fitted his son with a glare.

"And what is that, Father?" Jarvan IV asked, frowning.

"Explain to me just how it is that you departed with twelve men and returned with two?" His father said, glowering. "Though if I remember correctly, you departed with twelve men, so you can explain just who _she_ is next." The king gave Shyvana a glare as well, though there was a mix of emotions in his eyes when he looked upon her.

"They died in the line of duty." Jarvan said, his voice wavering just above dogged frustration. He clenched his fists. "My brothers stood with me with their heads held high as they faced down the worst that Valoran had to offer." He glared at the ground, frowning. He continued on with hesitation. "Unfortunately, there came a time when Valoran fought back more than me or any of my men had expected. It came in the form of a Dragon named Kampf." The king's eyes narrowed and Jarvan saw this. "You know this name?" The king looked hesitant, glancing at Shyvana before he frowned, leaning heavily on one arm of his throne.

"What little we have in the way of records that date back beyond the Rune Wars tells of a number of Celestial Dragons." Jarvan III frowned, looking down at his son with something new glimmering in his eyes. "There was one who led dragon kind against the ancient kingdom of Shurima and laid siege to the city for seventy days and seventy nights. Legends says that the dragon was named Kampf."

"I've never heard of such a tale." Jarvan said, frowning.

"I have." Shyvana said quietly.

"And who, pray tell, is this?" The king looked down over her with a frown, his eyes taking on a stormy cast.

Jarvan turned to his female companion and frowned. "Shy-..."

"Silence." The king growled, looking down at his son once more before he turned back to Shyvana. "She can speak for herself." Jarvan glared at his father, but kept his mouth shut, glancing nervously at Shyvana.

"My name is Shyvana, your grace." She bowed at the waist, watching his eyes as they continued to shift back and forth between ice and a storm cloud.

"Shyvana..." Jarvan said hesitantly, watching her uneasily. She met his gaze evenly and smiled, and Jarvan exhaled, nodding. _I trust you._

"I was raised by dragons, rather, one dragon." She said firmly, watching as the entirety of the court seemed to convulse. Soldiers and staff of the court seemed to falter in disbelief, many of them whispering, murmurs passing up and down the ranks of soldiers who had stood quietly by up until then. Garen shifted from foot to foot, masking his disbelief with a hand as he reconsidered the young woman. Lady Catherine's eyes grew wide as she looked down at the ruby-haired young woman with violent, violet eyes. King Jarvan III's eyes narrowed as they darkened, his mouth turning into a frown behind his black beard. "He went by the name of Faust, and your records probably tell of him as well." Jarvan III betrayed no surprise, but he nodded. "Fa-...Faust was a Celestial Dragon as well, and he was born thousands of years ago. He was a scholar, and unlike many dragons today who have reverted to savage beasts who fear and despise humanity, Faust chose to simply observe and watch, content with his exile. He told me what history he knew of the world and specifically the dragon, Kampf, who came to hunt and torment Faust my entire life. He is the same Kampf you speak of."

"I see." Jarvan III mused, his eyes looking into the heart of the woman who stood before him, reconsidering her. Shyvana looked unnerved by his ice blue eyes, but they were no longer on the verge of turning dark and stormy with his wrath. "I suppose that means your fate was tied in with that of my son."

"It is." Shyvana said firmly. She watched the king's eyebrow rise up underneath his crown. "Kampf slew Faust and left me for dead, content to watch me die slowly. Jarvan rescued me and fed me, helping me to complete my desire for revenge against that monster, Kampf."

"It is the truth, father." Jarvan IV said, stepping forward. "Without her, I would have undoubtedly shared the same fate as many of my men. She is a powerful warrior."

"And you wish for her a position within the Demacian military." Jarvan III mused, watching Jarvan's protests stall in his mind. A frown played over his son's face. "I'm not wrong, am I?"

"No." Jarvan said begrudgingly. The king pulled himself to his feet and stepped down towards where Jarvan and Shyvana stood apprehensively.

"What reason do I have to give her a position in my guard?" The king said, looking from his son to the woman he now circled at distance like a predator. He looked her up and down, a frown still on his face. "She hardly looks the part of a warrior, despite the fanciful tale she tells." A cold smile played over his lips. "I can't believe such tales at this. A human raised by Dragons? That's utter rubbish."

"But..." Shyvana stammered turning to look at the king. She had to clench her fists to control her temper. She had expected a man similar to her Jarvan: proud, forthright and a man of action. His father was nothing of the sort. Jarvan III was cold, calculating and his words stung like his icy gaze. Shyvana felt her frustration beginning to mount.

"What proof do you have that you slew this _mythical_ dragon though?" The king said, spreading his arms in a mock shrug. "Surely you have some sort of proof of who this dragon was, that he was the mythical beast, Kampf, that _legend_ speaks of." He met his son's disbelieving glare and then turned back to meet Shyvana's molten glare. "I'm sorry but I need hard evidence before I'll believe in fairy tales. You, young lady look more the part of a damsel in distress, not a warrior of Demacia." Shyvana clenched her fists and stared at the ground, her cheeks flushed.

_He's making me look like a fool._ Shyvana gritted her teeth as she searched for a comeback, something she could say or do to convince the king that she was telling the truth. _I am strong! Far stronger than any of these men..._ She simmered angrily as she looked over the guards. A gap had developed between her and them already. Where many looked at her with interest and unease before, the barrier had broken down to that of pity, as if she were simply another trophy that the Prince had brought home. The king looked back at her with a mix of pity and mirth. Shyvana resisted the urge to snarl, again, turning to stare at the ground, her red lock cascading around her face. _This is so stupid! If only I could smack that smug look from his face!_

"I can vouch for them, sir." Forsythe said as he stepped forward, breaking the tension that had begun to mount. Shyvana blinked a few times, surprised by Forsythe speaking out of turn. The king stopped his pacing long enough to hide his surprise and to look over the towheaded soldier who had stood silently by til now. The king let a smile flit across his lips.

"Ah yes, the sole survivor of my son's guard battalion." The king spoke softly, glaring at Shyvana once again before he stepped up to the young soldier, turning his silent wrath on the Corporal.

"Corporal Ellington Forsythe, 8th King's Guard Battalion, Exemplar Company." Forsythe saluted proudly, snapping to attention.

"Yes, I saw your dossier." The king mused. "You were a street urchin who served time in a penal battalion before you were accepted into my son's company, correct?"

"Yes, sir." Forsythe said, his lips forming a tight line, showing his discomfort at having his service record recalled from memory.

"And I assume that rather gruesome scar is from your fighting with Kampf as well?" The king pointed to the two tail ends of Forsythe scar, the majority of the damage now hidden by the black eyepatch he had purchased during their time at the Laughing Yordle. Forsythe's face hardened for a second but he took the patch off, doffing it in a pouch of his belt. The scar ran from high in Forsythe hairline, down, across his eyes and ended curving back away from the corner of his mouth. Where his left eye had been, a dark depression had formed.

"Sir." Forsythe barked, unphased. "Yes, sir. The monster grazed me when he assaulted our squad and slew all but one of the other men. If it hadn't been for Prince Jarvan and Miss Shyvana's valiant efforts in driving the dragon off, I would be dead."

"And this is the truth?" The king frowned, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked up at the shoulder who stood rigidly at attention.

"Of course sir." Forsythe said, a frown appearing on his face. "I have no reason to lie..."

"You served time in a penal battalion." Jarvan III said dismissively as he stepped away, back towards Shyvana. "I can't help but think you would say anything to help your own position." Shyvana felt her temper begin to flare, the young dragoness struggling to keep flames from bursting to life. She felt blood trickle down her fists as draconian claws dug into her palms.

"Forsythe has served as loyally as any true son or daughter of Demacia." Jarvan snarled. "He deserves your respect at the very least!" Jarvan stepped towards his father as guardsmen rushed forth. The king raised a hand and the guardsmen froze in place.

"Know your place." The king snapped, glaring at his son angrily. His blue eyes went from dark, menacing thunderstorm blue to cool, hardened ice. He sighed, frowning, looking to both Forsythe and Shyvana and then back to his son. "I knew this was going to be an issue."

"If you did then why would you start trouble?" Jarvan growled in disgust. "I owe Shyvana my life and I promised her a position with the guard and the very least Forsythe deserves is a damned commission." Jarvan III frowned as he met his son's gaze, electricity sparkling in the air.

"She shall have to prove herself then." The king said, finally turning away. "If she shows herself worthy than I shall see to it she receives a position befitting her strength. However, I doubt that it will be anything new. I've seen the likes of her type many times before."

_I shall show you power like you've never seen._ Shyvana took a deep breath, and felt the air around her began to heat. _Then we'll see if you wish to call it a fanciful tale._

"How do you plan to-..." Jarvan began to say, but he felt heat on the side of his face that drew his gaze to where Shyvana stood. Jarvan's face began to pale as he looked at Shyvana. Heat poured off of her body in visible sheets as she clenched her fists and bore her teeth. Her hair stood vertical as it was lifted by the wind, power swirling around her as sparks danced along the ground in a circle around her feet. "Wait, Shy-... Stop!"

"You have faced nothing like me!" Shyvana snarled as she glared at the king with golden fury dancing in her eyes. She raised a fist back as flame cloaked her body, swirling around her as she raced towards the king, her body low to the ground. Flames exploded around the dragoness as she launched herself at the king, knocking the two guards who had rushed forth aside like they were nothing. A raging inferno swirled around Shyvana and she charged, her fist cloaked in flame.

Golden light erupted as a cloud of smoke exploded, filling the room.

For a brief moment Shyvana hung in the air, propelled by her flames as she smashed against something solid and golden, energy bounced off of the wavering golden surface. Shyvana bounced and hit the ground, snarling as she picked herself up off the ground, stunned. She tried to shake it off, pushing herself up and starting to summon her flames. She froze as the sound of steel crossed just beneath her chin. She dared not move an inch, looking down at the long bladed lances that two guardsmen held just inches from her neck. She grinned as she watched the smoke clear, a familiar golden bubble glowing brilliantly.

The elder Jarvan wore a similar smile upon his face from within the golden bubble. The bubble evaporated with a _snap. _Men rushed towards Shyvana, holding her at lance point as fire still simmered around her, though the inferno was gone.

"Execute this bitch!" Colonel Walkurze shrieked, waving his arm at the men who now detained Shyvana.

"No!" Jarvan snarled, starting to rush towards her, but men rushed to greet him as well, their weapons brandished.

Forsythe slid up next to colonel, producing a weapon from the sleeve of his tunic. He pressed the sharpened edge of a rock gently to the colonel's neck and grabbed his arm. "I lied. I had a second rock." Forsythe said with a wicked smile. He twisted the colonel's arm about as the man tried to reach for his sword. "Don't you fucking dare." Forsythe snarled. He grabbed the sword upon the man's hip and slid it out of its sheath. "Jarvan!"

Forsythe tossed the blade for the prince to catch. Jarvan snatched it out of the air and spun away from his guards, taking two long steps towards the guardsman who stood over top of Shyvana. He smashed his fist into the T-shaped visor of one man's helmet, then spun and snap kicked the second in the side, sending him crashing to the ground. He hauled Shyvana to her feet with a single heave and then held the blade in front of him, pressing his back against Shyvana. They glanced around, watching as hundreds of heavily armored soldiers poured into the room. Jarvan let the tip of his sword clattered as he bounced it along the many weapons brandished at him.

Jarvan began to turn but stopped when he locked eyes with his childhood friend. Garen glared at him with a mix of disappointment and confusion, but he kept his sword sheathed, his arms crossed over his chest for now. Garen frowned, content simply to watch the confusion rather than getting caught up in it all. He seemed to know that if he was needed, he'd be asked. Jarvan glanced away, looking back towards the men who surrounded him. He stole a glance over his shoulder, glad to see Shyvana standing tall.

"That was ballsy and stupid." Jarvan growled under his breath.

"I thought I'd try and do what you'd do in my position." Shyvana said. Jarvan could hear the smirk she wore. "Felt good to try and take my anger out on him, and that helped me clear my head. Though it didn't really work, I _am_ glad your father possesses the same lightshield that you do." Jarvan stumbled for a second, nearly tripping over his own foot.

"You mean you didn't know?" Jarvan scoffed, looking over his shoulder. Shyvana gave him a toothy grin and shrugged.

"I was pretty sure." She laughed as Jarvan sighed and shook his head.

"So what now?" Jarvan asked, looking at the men who had surrounded them. They bore the crimson sash and plume of the Demacian Elite Royal Guard, not ones to be trifled with. "You planning on fighting out of here?"

"No... I, uh, actually I hadn't really planned this far ahead." Shyvana said sheepishly. "I kinda let my temper get the best of me."

"I'll say." Jarvan said, chuckling. "I'll admit I was impressed, just next time, gimme some warning when you've got another bright idea."

"Hey, I thought the best way to prove my strength would be to take him down a peg." Shyvana said blushing. "I may or may not have gotten a bit ahead of myself with my nervousness of meeting your parents and my utter frustration with your father."

"Yeah, he can be kind of an ass." Jarvan said quietly, struggling not to smirk. "He's always been a bit overbearing. Well, at least everyone's alright. How about you, Forsythe, you doing okay?"

"I'm not enjoying all these weapons pointed at me to be perfectly honest." Forsythe snarled, bending Colonel Walkurze's arm and getting an appropriate reaction. The colonel yelped in pain as Forsythe twisted his arm about, keeping the well sharpened rock still pressed to his neck. Blood had started to bead along the sharpened edge.

"I hope you know you're not getting away with this, bastard!" Walkurze snapped. "I'll see it that you and that witch burn!"

"Do me a favor and shut the fuck up." Forsythe growled. "Though if you like the idea, I'm sure my friend Miss Shyvana would love to give you a taste of flame." Walkurze stole a glance at Shyvana who smiled prettily, holding out a hand. A ball of flames snapped to life in her hand, dancing for a bit. Walkurze's face paled noticeably. "Thought so." Forsythe raised his knee up and then booted the colonel in the back of the right leg, sending the man crashing to his knees. Forysthe kept him from smashing face on the ground by holding his arm with one hand, using the other to keep the rock against his throat. "What's the plan boss?"

"Well..."

"Stand down!" The king bellowed, frowning. "All forces stand down." He turned his gaze to his son and though there was anger in his icy glare, there was a certain amount of approval as if he were complimenting his son on the strength of his companions. "Have your friends stand down as well."

"But sir!" The officer who led the reinforcements stammered, pointing at the seemingly renegade soldiers who stood isolated in the center of the mass of men. "They have one of our men hostage! Surely you don't expect me to stand by..."

"I do, and you will or you'll lose your commission and land yourself in the deepest dungeon I can find, Major." The king said, his voice even, despite the anger that was clear on his face. The officer looked surprised but slowly he nodded, stepping back and ordering his men to do the same. The soldiers lowered their weapons and took several steps back, grumbles and murmurs passing through the men, though the tension in the air was palpable. The king turned to Forsythe and glowered at the man but sighed after several moments.

"I appreciate the healthy vote of confidence in the young woman and my idiot son." Jarvan III growled. "But there is no need to do something as foolish as this. He may be a bit of a pain, but the colonel is only looking out for the safety of myself and my wife. Overzealous as he is, he's simply doing his job."

"I don't plan of letting this ass go." Forsythe growled as menacingly as possible. "Not before you call off the snipers." The king's eyes narrowed visibly as if he hadn't expected that demand and then he nodded, a thin smile appearing behind his beard.

"Perceptive, I see. Very well." He raised a hand and made a fist. There was a clicking of the hammer getting seated from high above. "They won't fire. Now please, let the good colonel go, he simply got ahead of himself, I had no intention of letting her get killed."

Forsythe met his gaze for a few moments, staring into the clear, ice blue eyes of the king for several moment before he let the rock drop away from the colonel's neck and he took a step back, kicking the colonel in the back. The officer stumbled forward onto his chest. He snarled as he struggled to his feet, trying his best to maintain what dignity he had left.

"READY YOUR WEAPONS!" He bellowed, waving his arm at the men who now stood at arms.

"Silence, Colonel Walkurze or I'll bounce those ranks tabs off your collar so fast you won't know what hit you." The king snarled, fitting the officer with a stormy glare. Walkurze reached up to check his collar to ensure his colonel's rank tabs were still there, blushing when he found them in place. He glared back at the king, his embarrassment turning into red faced fury, but he forced himself to turn away in disgust.

"Now, young woman, Shyvana." The king turned to look at her, watching as she met his gaze tentatively. "While I think your manners could use some work, I like your initiative and attitude." A tight lipped smile rested upon his face. "If you truly desire to become a warrior of Demacia, to protect her and all of her constituents, I shall give you the chance to prove your strength in a fair match. Do you accept this challenge?"

Shyvana exchanged a glance with Jarvan who frowned but nodded. Jarvan lowered his weapon and then turned towards where Walkurze was busy trying to salve his dignity still. "Catch." He gently tossed the sword, watching the color drain from the colonel's face with a grin. The man managed to catch the sword by the pommel, scowling as he sheathed it. Two soldiers stepped up to Jarvan and grabbed his arms, bending them around the staff of their lances, holding his arms crossed behind him.

"Jarvan..." Shyvana said nervously. Men seemed hesitant to approach her as they pulled Jarvan away from her. Several men tried to approach her but with a single glance she sent them scurrying backwards, their weapons still held towards her.

"I don't think you've got much in the way of a choice in this one." Jarvan wore a frown as he was manhandled by the soldiers. Shyvana looked unhappy as well but she turned to the king and nodded, bowing. She dipped at the waist and then stood full up.

"I accept your offer, your highness." She said quietly, matching the king's intensity.

"Good." The king mused with a smile.


	4. Chapter 3: Duel

"Good." Jarvan III wore a smirk as he looked about the room, his gaze settling on Garen. "You shall face off against Captain Crownguard in a one on one duel." His smirk darkened. "If you are able to defeat him, you shall be given a position within the Demacian Military. Are these terms acceptable to you?" Shyvana frowned but nodded. "Very good." He turned to Garen and smiled. "Captain Crownguard, are you up to the task?"

Garen didn't look too pleased but he nodded as well, the massive knight shifting from foot to foot. He stepped up closer before he nodded. "Of course, sir." He looked over Shyvana with a quick, dismissive gaze. He grunted inaudibly.

"We shall proceed to the veranda then." The king said, a smile forming on his face. "Colonel, as soon as you're done humiliating yourself and picking yourself up off the ground, escort my son and the others out to the Veranda. This will be interesting to watch."

"But your highness!" Colonel Walkurze tried to straighten his clothes but it only served to make a greater mess of his uniform. "This is ridiculous! She just made an attempt on your life! What if she tries again?"

"She wishes to join us, Walkurze." The king said, his displeasure starting to show as his bread twitched slightly. "Killing me wouldn't really serve to gain her anything. While the throne would pass to my son and he would be able to knight her, they would have singlehandedly alienated all of Demacia and torn the country asunder."

"But sir, I still can't condone..." Walkurze looked frustrated, his face red as opened him mouth again to complain.

"Enough of your useless blathering!" The king shouted, his glare darkening. Walkurze's face drained completely of color and he snapped to attention, his lips quivering in anger and fear. "Major Dillich?" The king turned and looked for the commander he had ordered to stand down earlier, the officer who had led the Palace Guard forces to reinforce the throne room. The officer stepped forward and saluted.

"Here, sir." The Major said, smartly.

"Congratulations on your promotion, Colonel Dillich." The king said, pulling the golden lion tab that had been pinned to Walkurze's collar and handed it to now Colonel Dillich. "I expect good things from you, soldier." Dillich tried not to smile, but he saluted as smartly as possible, clicking his steel heels together.

"Yes, sir!"

"Good man." The king said, nodding. "Have your men escort my wife and the others out onto the Veranda, I'd like a moment with my son. That includes you two." The king glared at the two soldiers who still detained his son. They looked hesitant to release their captive, but did so after a few moments, leaving Jarvan to massage his wrists.

"Finally." Jarvan grumbled under his breath. The king waited until most of the guards had cleared. Shyvana and her four escorts were the last to leave, the dragoness trying to hover close to Jarvan.

"You may leave, young one." The king said, nodding to her.

"We'll be right behind you, Shyvana." Jarvan said with a reassuring smile. She looked hesitant but nodded and allowed the four guardsmen to lead her from the throne room. Jarvan watched with a frown as Walkurze slunked out behind them, glaring at Shyvana the entire way.

"Now, Jarvan..." The king began, meeting his son's gaze.

"If you wish to speak to me about Shyvana, then you can invite her back in here." Jarvan growled. "I don't think it fair to talk about her behind her back." The king chuckled and shook his head but looked up at his son, a mixture of pride and frustration on his face.

"I see how taken you are with her." The king said, neither anger nor happiness marking his voice.

"If you're going to tell me I can't see her, then I might as well take her and leave." Jarvan set his jaw defiantly.

"I wasn't going to, but with an attitude like that you may wish to take another few years and get it sorted." His father hissed. Jarvan frowned, but the king watched as his son's determination to remain defiant melted a bit. "If you'll listen to me a second, I was just going to warn you to be careful. Noxian forces have been probing our defenses for a while now and I fear that if you take on a woman who is not capable of taking care of herself may leave you in a position to be... _manipulated_."

"If you want to blame that on my escapades in Noxus..." His father shook his head interrupting Jarvan's accusation.

"You caused a bit of an uproar but this has been going on much longer than that." The king frowned, the age suddenly flooding his face, betraying a very breif moment of vulnerability. "I may not be happy with it, but I can't do but so much about it right now. I have other things on my plate that must be dealt with."

"Then why all of this?" Jarvan growled, waving to the mostly empty throne room. "If you knew so much about what was happening, why are you making us jump through these hoops?"

"You noticed, good." The king said, an amused smile on his face. "I don't like secrets." The glare returned, Jarvan set squarely in his father's sights. Though his father was shorter, and Jarvan was looking down at him, the king's glare was enough to silence Jarvan. His ice-blue eyes narrowed as he glared at his son. "If you have any secrets you'd like to share with me now, I'm all ears."

Jarvan felt uncomfortable, as if he were a child being scolded. His father's piercing glare seemed to cut through him, as if he could see the two secrets he still held onto. "No, father." Though his father smiled, Jarvan could see it wasn't genuine.

Something clouded his eyes.

"Then let's head to the Veranda, I'm sure everyone is waiting." The king moved off at an easy pace, letting his son follow behind.

The veranda overlooked the ocean distant, and the lower half of Demacia Proper. Stretching from the cape down to the coast around the natural harbor, the city looked majestic in the distant despite the midday haze that seemed to cover the city. Ships were anchored in the harbor, the white accents covering the city, motes of greens and golds showing through in places. Jarvan stood rigidly overlooking a depression in the middle of the Veranda, Garen and Shyvana standing in the middle of the shallow depression. Guards and soldiers were stretched out around the entire area, many of them talking quietly as the formed the makeshift perimeter.

"Father, if you're planning something..." Jarvan growled as his father took his place next to where Lady Catherine was waiting, watching the proceedings with disinterest. She seemed fretted over Shyvana, unable to make up her mind about the young woman. She turned and looked at her husband before looking back to where Garen and Shyvana were waiting to begin their duel. The elder Jarvan shook his head and held his hands together behind his back.

"What did you two talk about?" She asked, her displeasure with the fight evident in her tone of voice.

"Nothing, Catherine." The king said quietly. He tried to avoid his sons gaze, but the younger Jarvan looked angry still. "What is it? I thought I told you..."

"Call off all of this show and dance. It's not necessary." Jarvan growled. Though he towered over the elder Jarvan, he was dwarfed by the older man's commanding presence. The king met his gaze evenly, staring up at his son, and Jarvan felt a shiver worm down his spine.

"It'd be best if you watch your tongue, young one." Jarvan III said menacingly. "You don't want to say something you'll regret."

"I'll say whatever I think is necessary." Jarvan growled, glaring at his father angrily. He watched as Garen drew his great sword and stepped out into the large open area of the Veranda.

"Then I shall do the same." The king frowned. "I'm doing this to prove a point and to observe your ward's power for myself."

"Is this really necessary, Trey?" Lady Catherine looked as uncomfortable as her son. She looked over Jarvan IV with a frown on her face. Two soldiers, each as large as Jarvan, stood only a few feet back with their weapons at the ready in case he tried to interfere.

"It is, Catherine." The king said quietly, frowning. "You shall see before too long." He turned to Captain Walkurze who stood off to the side glaring at the young woman as if he was about to shoot daggers with her eyes. "Return the young woman's gauntlets, Captain."

Walkurze hesitated a moment, looking at the king. "Sir?"

"I doubt Captain Crownguard would appreciate a handicap." The king said, his annoyance growing as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Return her gauntlets, Captain." Dillich nodded to one of his men who took the gauntlets from the captain. The soldier crept forward, holding the gauntlets out to Shyvana. She took the smaller of the two, the one which was shaped like the bottom of a dragon's jaw. She slid her hand into the leather strap along the back and tightened it down to fit her arm loosely, flexing her hand around the handle that stretched across the guard. Satisfied it was set in place, she accepted the other and watched as the soldier retreated. She slid her hand in and tightened the leather down again, shaking the gauntlet to ensure it was holding. Satisfied, she sunk down a bit, settling into a fighting stance.

Garen watched her intently for a moment, his weapon held in one hand still. He brought it up before his face in a fencer's salute. Shyvana simply nodded.

"You may begin." The king shouted.

Shyvana cast a withering glance at the king, meeting his gaze for a moment.

Garen charged, his blade raised up over his shoulder as he stormed forth. Shyvana spun and swept backwards as the blade crashed down and hit the stone underfoot, sending fragments flying. Shyvana cloaked her legs in flames as she charged forth with fire swirling around her, the heat carrying her faster as Garen tried to bring his massive great sword up for a second strike. He brought it down again, but Shyvana had stopped just short, ducking the swing. Shyvana slammed her foot down on the blade, cocking her arm back as she came in for a strike.

Garen growled as he ripped his sword up in a strike aimed at cleaving Shyvana from the bottom up. She kicked off the powerful strike and arced up through the air, tossing herself back and landing gracefully. Flames now billowed around her, whipping her hair into a frenzy as heat poured off her body.

"Just what are you..." Garen muttered as he wiped his chin, bringing his weapon up. Shyvana sprinted forth with an inhuman burst of speed, immediately closing within Garen's defensive zone as he brought his sword up to block. She spun and punched the blade aside, the sound of steel on steel ringing as her gauntlet struck the blade. She finished her spin, flames cloaking her gauntlets as she hit Garen in the side once, slamming her right fist in hard. She followed it up with a quick right and then another left. Garen grunted against the blows, but he brought his weapon down in a swing that struck the stone again.

He staggered momentarily, gasping for breath as Shyvana skirted around the edge of his range, the prey now the predator. Fire burned in her eyes as she glared at him, looking for another opening to close and attack. Garen pushed himself up to his full height, reconsidering the woman, holding his blade between then as he matched her circling.

"They're equally matched." Lady Catherine said quietly as she watched the two warriors pace, each judging their opponent and looking for the first moment of weakness.

"No, they're not." The king said, a frown crossing his face. "She's holding back." He glanced at his son, who refused to meet his gaze, continuing to stare at the two warriors, two of his closest friends who now faced off. His eyes flickered towards the king for just a moment, but Jarvan III caught the glance. _You're still hiding something?_ "This should have been over in the first few blows."

"You think she's that strong?" Lady Catherine said, crossing her arms over her chest. "She looks so petite and frail."

"There's something else below the surface." Jarvan III said thoughtfully, stroking his beard as he watched Shyvana and Garen move in again to trade. "Those flames aren't normal."

Garen watched as Shyvana stole a glance away from the battle and charged. He raised his sword above his head as he sprinted forth, leaping as he brought the massive blade down with as much force as he could muster. Shyvana raised her gauntlets as the blade crashed down. Garen blinked when the blade struck the gauntlets and stopped. Shyvana snarled, her eyes now reptilians slits. Garen stumbled in disbelief as the flames grew higher and hotter, his blade beginning to turn red. She snarled and ripped the blade backwards and down, sending him crashing to the ground. Garen pushed himself up and rolled over, grasping for his sword. He glanced about for the weapon, seeing it sitting on the stone not far from him. He reached out for it, but a steel boot slammed down on his wrist, pinning him on the ground. He groaned as he stared up at Shyvana, her eyes glowing with a golden sheen, black slits running vertically in the center of the burning orbs. She bore her teeth, long fangs glittering in the light of her flames.

"You're _are_ a monster..." Garen growled.

"You haven't even begun to see my final form..." Shyvana snarled. She raised a fist up and cloaked it in flames, orange fire raging around her hand like the heart of a forge.

"Shyvana!" Jarvan shouted as she began to drop the hammer blow onto his forehead.

Her armored fist slammed into the ground mere inches from Garen's face, a wave of flames washing over his head. Garen's eyes grew wide as he stared at the blue leathery skin and armored scales on her arm. Her eyes dimmed as she blinked the golden slits away, the magenta orbs staring down into Garen's blue eyes. She took a step back, looking to Jarvan with fear in her eyes.

Garen pulled his knees to his chest, grabbing about for his sword and kicking out when he didn't find it, catching Shyvana in the chest with both feet. As she stumbled backwards gasping for breath, Garen brought his knees to his chest again, pushing against the stone ground with his hands and launched himself to his feet. He scooped up his sword as he charged forth, raising the blade up above his head. He brought his blade down hard, but Shyvana blocked with her gauntlets again, sparks bouncing along the ground. The force of the blow sent her stumbling back again, but Garen brought his sword up in a quick follow up strike, knocking her arms out of the way as he slammed his forehead into hers, sending her stumbling backwards again. Garen pressed his advantage, spinning with his blade held out at arms length. Shyvana managed to dodge the first spin of the blade, but Garen spun it upwards and then brought it down hard in a full cirlce, catching her on the arm.

Blood splattered upon the stone as Shyvana crashed backwards, clutching the gash in her arm with one hand as she hit the ground. Garen stood over her now, his blade held next to her neck as she stared up at him.

"Garen! Don't do it!" Jarvan shouted, struggling against the guards that held him.

"Prince Jarvan..." Garen looked over his shoulder, his sword still clutched in both hands, held to Shyvana's throat. He looked at his childhood friend, and the distress upon his face. Garen had to look away, the happiness he had felt at being reunited with his childhood friend now drained from his body. "...Apologies, my friend."

"Finish it, Captain Crownguard." The king ordered, his voice firm. Lady Catherine looked from her husband to her son and then to the ruby haired young woman who lay upon the ground, a sword at her throat.

"Father, no!" Jarvan IV snarled. Hatred swirled in his eyes as he stared up at the elder Lightshield, struggling against his wardens. "What the hell do you want, damnit? I didn't think even you'd do something this underhanded!"

"Keep him restrained!" Jarvan III snapped back with equal anger, watching as the gold, blue and white armored Demacian soldiers struggled with his disobedient son. They held their lances across the prince's chest, crossed and braced, but as the prince continued to struggle, the men were starting to give. _He's grown much stronger..._ Jarvan III let his expression mellow as he watched his son struggle as one of the strongest Champion of Demacia stood over a young woman who looked out of place amid the Demacian court. A crowd of staff had gathered around the terrace to watch the commotion, and Jarvan III surveyed them with a smirk. _It won't serve any purpose to do this in front of so many, but it must be done._ The king rested a hand upon the hilt of his sword which sat in its sheath upon his hip. "Captain Crownguard, you have your orders. Do it. There isn't a place in Demacia for the likes of a weakling like her."

"Jarvan..." Lady Catherine started to reach out to her son, but Jarvan III put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back, shaking his head. Anger welled in her eyes as she stared up at her husband. "Why are you tormenting him like this, Trey?"

"Silence Catherine." Jarvan III ordered, glaring at his wife. "This is a battle, and she lost. She wasn't strong enough. Now, she must face the penalty for her actions."

Garen paused as he stood over the young woman, staring into the ice blue hardened glare of the King of Demacia. Garen's chest heaved as he used the back of his gloved hand to wipe blood from his chin. He brought his weapon up above his head and held it there, looking down over his quarry. Shyvana lay at his feet, her tattered red hair splayed out around her like a giant pool of blood. Blood poured from the deep gash on her arm, a bruise forming on her forehead. Her chest heaved with the exertion and fear, her entire body trembling slightly. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, meeting his glare. Garen took a half step back, his mouth ajar.

Fire boiled in her violet eyes as they slowly swirled with golden color, her pupils narrowing to black diamonds. Blue scales started to show on her face as her face contorted in anger.

Garen shivered as he tightened his fists around his sword and lifted it up above his head. _Just what are you?_

"DO IT, CAPTAIN!" Jarvan III barked the order and Garen closed his eyes, unwilling to stare into the eyes of someone who had so much fight left in them as they died.

Garen brought his sword down in a cleaving swing, striking the stone just before her and driving his blade in deep. He grunted with the effort, but as Garen closed his eyes and began to radiate with power, the hum of steel could be heard ringing in the air. The blade sunk deeper as he poured all of his might and energy into the manifestation of his true strength. He exhaled and then shouted, driving the blade into the ground with as much force as he could muster, a flash of golden light enveloping the area as blue flames seemed to pour off of his body.

"No!" Jarvan bellowed. He sunk down and shoulder checked one of the guardsmen who now tried to restrain him, sending the man tumbling backwards. He grabbed the lance still held over his chest and hauled the other soldier over his shoulder, slamming him onto the ground, his armor clattering as air exploded out of the soldier's mouth. Jarvan launched himself towards where Shyvana lay on the ground, a lance in his hands. "SHYVANA!"

A massive golden sword dropped from the sky.

Dust and steam exploded outwards, chunks of stone from the veranda bouncing to a halt along the ground. Garen looked up, pulling his sword from the ground and standing before the massive cloud. His sword hung in his hand at his side as he stared into the dust.

"No..." Jarvan's sprint slowed to a halt, his feet dragging along the ground. Garen turned to look at him, a sad look on his face. He refused to meet the prince's eyes.

"I'm sorry..." Garen whispered, but a rumble told a different story.

Garen slowly turned back towards the cloud and watched as something massive stirred within the impenetrable cloud. A black shadow rose up to three, almost four times his height, golden orbs glowing through the darkness like a lantern in a snowstorm.

Garen took a half step backwards, bringing his weapon up. "What in the name of-..."

"_Behold my true form!"_

A massive claw sliced out of the cloud and struck him in the chest, sending him flying backwards, his weapon skittering away from him. Garen gasped for breath as he clutched his stomach, his chest plate completely crushed. Though he felt his breathing freeze in his throat and begin to burn, he couldn't tear his eyes away from what was below him. Garen stared down at the massive purple scales claw that extended from the cloud as it scrapped along the stone leaving deep, jagged marks in the ground. They disappeared into the cloud for a brief moment, leaving dead silence to hang in the air.

"Dragon!" A soldier screamed, as terror seemed to erupt amid the crowd. People scattered in every direction, many soldiers frozen in terror as a gust of wind blew the obscuring cloud away, revealing a massive dragon. Armed with gleaming claws and fangs and armored with glittering purple scales, the beast snarled at the guards as some of them brought their weapons up. Other scattered to try and reform their ranks, but many had stumbled or fallen to the ground in their shock. Colonel Dillich stood rooted to his spot, his eyes as wide as saucers as the dragon took a single step forward and roared. The sound echoed across the veranda, drowning out the screeches of soldiers who had never faced anything like this before.

"Protect the king and queen!" Dillich bellowed, finally shaking off his shock. The soldiers, though gripped by fear, began to turn, steadfast loyalty drilled into them. They overcame their shock and then surged forward to form a wall of flesh and armor around the king and queen. "King Lightshield, Lady Catherine, please, let us get you to safety!" The king stood his ground and watched the dragon with an even glare, his arms crossed over his chest. Lady Catherine stood stunned, a look of surprise on her face as she covered her mouth with a hand.

"I don't believe it..." Lady Catherine murmured, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. "A dragon..."

"My lady!" The officer protested. She started to turn, but her husband grabbed her hand and held it firmly.

"Wait." He said, a frown marring his face.

"Sir?" Dillich looked surprised, but the king glared at him and Dillich immediately nodded and took a step back. Though he couldn't order the king and queen back, he would do his damnedest to keep them safe. Her order mages and shield bearers to the front to reinforce the lines, but before he could order a barrier up, Walkurze stepped forth, with the look of a madman on his face.

"Archers to the ready!" Walkurze shouted. The formation of archers hesitated for a moment, but they drew their arrows back, knocking them. "Prepare to fire!"

"Wait, stop!" Jarvan bellowed, sprinting forth. He spun and waved his arms in surrender as he approached the dragon, as if he was protecting her. The dragon looked down at him for a second, surprised, its golden eyes dancing over him, its mane of red hair shivering as it turned towards the archers and roared.

"Jarvan, what are you doing!" Lady Catherine screamed.

"Fire!" Walkurze shrieked.

"No!" Jarvan bellowed, his face aghast as arrows sliced through the air towards him. The dragon swept over top of him, a wall of flames incinerating the arrows. Blobs of molten steel struck the dragon's wing and bounced off harmlessly. The soldiers watched in horror as the dragon stood up higher and then roared at them with a demonic, inhuman tone. The sounds was pained and feminine, the note reaching a painful volume. The soldiers dropped their bows and clamped their hands over their ears, the screech of the dragon cutting through their skulls.

"What happened to Jarvan!" Lady Catherine gasped, her hands clamped over her ears even after the sound had died, tears streaking her face as she looked on in horror. "Has he been crushed? Trey, do something!" Lady Catherine looked aghast to find her husband unshaken by the appearance of the dragon or the loss of his son. She felt more tears begin to well in her eyes and she felt anger in her heart.

"Look." Jarvan III said, a small smile appearing on his face as he pointed back to the dragon. As if on queue, the dragon took a step backwards, pulling its wing back, the flames dying along the ground. Jarvan stood tall, his hand on the dragon's neck as he glared at his father. Jarvan turned to the dragon, running his hand along its scaly skin. "Thanks, Shy." The dragon dipped its head in a nod.

"Of course, my love." Shyvana rumbled. She turned her gaze towards the King and Queen.

"You mean to tell me... that dragon is that young girl?" Lady Catherine's mouth hung open as she stared at her son.

"Aye, mother." Jarvan said, nodding slightly.

"When you spoke of Faust... you said he raised you." The king said, a smile upon his face. It was neither cold nor menacing though. "You are actually his daughter by blood then?"

"That is correct." Shyvana rumbled. Jarvan pulled the cloak from his shoulders as Shyvana began to shrink, dropping to all fours as a pale, naked human girl. Jarvan wrapped the cloak around her shoulders as he helped her to her feet. "Thanks." She said with a quiet voice. She pulled the cloak closer around her. "My father was Faust, and my name is Shyvana. I am a half-dragon. " She paused. "If you will still allow me, I wish to remain by Jarvan's side and serve Demacia with my strength." She bowed in the direction of the king.

"Shyvana..." Jarvan said quietly, taking her hand. She smiled at him bravely, and then met the king's gaze again. Jarvan turned and met his father stare brazenly. "Father, Shyvana has show her strength with which she can fight for Demacia and her people. She is strong, much stronger than you or I, and I challenge you to find me anyone who is a better exemplar of the Demacian spirit than she. I told her I would find her a place among our forces, and I ask you to help me honor my word."

The king stepped down from where he stood towards the middle of the terrace where Jarvan and Shyvana now stood. He paused, looking down at where Garen still sat on the ground, stunned and defeated.

"You lost, Captain" The king said bluntly. Garen grumbled as he started to push himself to his feet, wincing as he rolled onto his knees. Shyvana stepped up to him and proffered him a hand from within her cloak, using the other to hold it closed around her neck. Garen looked at it for a moment as if it were a viper about to strike before he grunted and pushed himself uneasily up to his feet, ignoring her offered hand. He stepped clear of Shyvana with a frown and tried to stand up straight, but he winced. "Are you hurt?"

"Not badly, sir." Garen said, his breathing a bit heavy, his tone wavering. "A few broken ribs, maybe."

"Get yourself patched up. Dismissed." The king turned his attention back to Jarvan and Shyvana as the knight saluted and then started to limp away. Jarvan III took several steps towards the couple who stood in the middle of the terrace. He stopped several feet short of where steam rose from the fire-blackened stone.

"Father..." Jarvan began to say, but he was silenced when the king raised a hand.

"Before you protest more, listen to what I have to say." He met his son's angry glare with an even gaze. Jarvan frowned but nodded. "Good. I knew from the beginning what you truly were, young lady. However, I did not know if you were able to control it. As appalling as my methods may have been, I needed to see proof that you are able to control that power you possess. When you saved my son from the volley of arrows, you showed the strength and control I needed proof of." Hesitation marked his voice as he paused. "While this may be somewhat late, I bid you welcome to Demacia and grant you official citizenship, young lady."

Shyvana looked surprised at first, but it soon turned into a smile. "Thank you!" She stammered, blushing furiously. Heat simmered off her head as she stared at the ground.

"If you truly desire to join the Demacia Military, you shall have to face many challenges." He paused again, waiting till she looked up and met her icy gaze. "If you still wish to proceed upon that path, I shall grant you permission to join the Elite Demacian Royal Guard... but not without proper training."

"Of course." Shyvana said, nodding.

"Good." The king said with a smile. "You'll begin training immediately. As for you, my son." The elder Jarvan turned his icy gaze back to his son. Jarvan's mouth tightened into a thin line, preparing for the worst. "Welcome home, my boy. It is good to see you well, though I suspect I have her to thank for that." Shyvana blushed when the king smiled at her.

"We work well together." Jarvan said, resting his hand across her waist.

"Indeed." The king mused, a slight smile playing over his lips. "I suppose that leaves the question for you. What are you going to do now that you have returned?"

Jarvan met his glare openly, and with a tone as cold and as steady as steel, Jarvan spoke. "I swear I shall bring the enemies of Demacia to their knees."

The king smiled. "Very good, my son." He reached out and grappled his son's shoulder. "It's good to have you home."


	5. Chapter 4: Council

Jarvan frowned as he tromped through the halls of the Demacian palace. He paused at a four way intersection, looking around as the footsteps that followed him came to a halt as well. Jarvan hung his head and sighed.

"Hail, prince." The call was deep in tone and Jarvan felt relief flood his stomach as he looked to the voice. Down the hall to his left, Garen Crownguard strode towards him, a soldier in tow. Though Jarvan couldn't remember his name, he recognized the dark complected soldier who snapped to attention when he came to a stop several feet away. He snapped off a salute with surprising intensity. Jarvan turned back to Garen and gave the captain a cocky grin.

"Garen, it's good to see you moving about." Jarvan said, trying not to let the smile become too imperious. The Demacian warrior walked up and casually saluted. Jarvan returned it, still trying, with difficulty, to keep his smile under control.

"You remember my lieutenant, Tunis, correct?" Garen said, gesturing to his companion. Jarvan stuck his hand out and smiled, the officer looking a bit surprised before accepting Jarvan's extend grasp. His handshake was surprisingly firm for small man..

"Welcome to the palace, Lieutenant." The man nodded but remained silent. Jarvan grappled Garen's forearm in a roman handshake for a brief moment before Garen dropped his arm, wincing a bit when he let the arm slap his leg a bit too hard. Jarvan grinned. "Still sore?"

"A bit, Jarvan." Garen shook his head, running a hand carefully over the right side of his chest. "Four broken ribs, three right and one left. Your friend really packs a punch."

"Caught you by surprise, did she?" Jarvan chuckled and Garen glowered. "Though, if you ask, I doubt she'd be above giving you a rematch on fairer terms." Garen shrugged, though Jarvan could see his competitive nature sparkling in his eyes.

"It was a dirty set up that I was doomed to fail at." Garen growled. Jarvan looked at him with a crooked grin until Garen glanced away, frowning. "But yes. I was caught by surprise. Speaking of, where is she? It was my understanding that she was given a position within the Royal Guard?" Jarvan's shoulder sunk for a moment and he shrugged.

"Father's one condition was that she undergo basic training." Jarvan motioned for Garen to walk with him and the brown haired warrior nodded, falling into step with him. "She's been assigned to Lt. Colonel Robert Spiritmight's training unit for a month long period, or until she is deemed ready for action." Garen read the frown on Jarvan's face as he spoke the officer's name.

"That's your uncle's battalion, right?" Garen said, gesturing to a corner. Jarvan looked down the opposite hall and then fell in beside his childhood friend.

Jarvan shrugged. "She should be in good hands." They slowed as they approached the entrance hall to the Demacian Council chambers.

"I've been meaning to ask..." Garen said, raising an eyebrow as he turned and looked back toward Jarvan. "Who're the kids?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the two young looking military officers who had been following them. Jarvan slowed to a halt and turned to face Garen, his shoulder sinking and a tired look washing over his face.

"Meet Sergeant Vivian Delancey..." The young looking blonde woman snapped to attention and saluted with a wide smile spreading on her face, dimples forming on her cheeks. She had light brown hair that was pulled back in a tight knot on the back of her head, though she had forelocks that had been died blue and fell to her just below her shoulders. Green eyes that sparkled with a mix of bubbliness and excitement, with a dash of mischief hiding just beneath the surface. She was lean, but Jarvan could only tell from where the fabric of her tunic clung to her body between the bulky armor she wore, giving her proportions an almost comical effect. Jarvan gestured to the second soldier. "...and Sergeant Wallace Lee." Lee was Delancey's opposite. While Delancey looked like she was ready to burst at the seams with energy and excitement, Lee looked about as bored as he could be. He managed to pull off a near perfect salute, and though his movements were crisp, his eyes were half closed with dark circles underneath. He had an olive complexion, dark eyes, and short black hair that was long along the top of his head, sweeping just over his brow. While he wore heavy armor nearly identical to Delancey, He stood nearly two feet taller than Delancey, and several inches taller than Jarvan. The sash over his right shoulder and the tome on his right hip signified he was either a paladin or some sort of combat mage. "My father assigned them as bodyguards but all they really do is trail me like a pair of lost puppies." Jarvan said in a deadpan voice. Garen frowned at the regulations their hairstyles broke, but as he looked back to Jarvan, a smug look slid onto his face.

"A pleasure to meet you, sir!" Delancey said happily, the squeaky excitement in her voice enough to clue Garen in to what it was like having her around. He tried not to snicker as the young woman finally dropped the salute, a massive smile still dominating her face.

"Charmed, Captain." Lee said stonily, dropping his salute and sliding into a parade rest stance. Garen returned their salutes and dropped his arm with a wince.

"I can't get even the slightest moment of privacy with these two around." Jarvan groaned, shaking his head. "They follow me everywhere from sun up to sun down." Jarvan shook his head, running a hand through his black hair as he looked over at the two bodyguards and stifled a grunt of exhaustion. "I think my father did this just to antagonize me."

"So nobility isn't all sunshine and daffodils, eh?" Garen chuckled when Jarvan glared at him with venom in his eyes.

"Har, har, aren't you just a regular comedian." Jarvan sneered, shaking his head. "On second thought, I think I'll just have Shyvana pound you flat into the ground next time, how about that? How'd you like a nice relaxing stay in the hospital instead of a few broken ribs?"

"Yeah well, there won't be any surprises next time." Garen said with an entertained grin. "Unless she can do something other than turn into a giant dragon."

"Well she breathes fire and can fly." Jarvan said, watching as Garen deadpanned, color draining from his face a brief moment. It was Jarvan's turn to laugh. "Maybe if you ask nicely though, she'll refrain from embarrassing you again if you do decide you want a rematch." Jarvan started moving again, though his feet seemed to drag a little.

"It might prove interesting." Garen said with a grin. "Any idea what's going on today? I didn't receive any information about the meeting other than to bring all of my information regarding my recent investigation in the Excursion case." Jarvan raised an eyebrow, the depressed look evaporating instantly.

"Excursion?" Jarvan repeated, looking over at his long time friend.

Garen nodded. "DDS Excursion, cargo sloop, Marlin-class. She was lost with all hands several months back, and we've barely been able to determine anything about her disappearance. It was initially chalked up to a bad storm, but recent searches turned up some wreckage and evidence of piracy. I was tasked with investigating it with help from the Institute of War."

"I see." Jarvan said expressionlessly. He stared straight ahead as they walked towards the end of the hallway. Though a number of doorways had led off to side of the hallway, the two heavily armed and armored guardsmen told Jarvan this was their destination. The guards snapped to attention and opened the doors, granting Jarvan and Garen and their small entourage entrance. They filed into the sloped chamber, benches and desks wrapping around the circular room. Large staircases led up and down the chamber on multiple sides and in the very center, there was a large open area. Tiers with more desk and chairs rose up around the room, many of the seats already filled.

"The Legislative Council." Delancey said in a small voice, surprised. She squeaked and covered her mouth, as Jarvan paused and then nodded.

"Indeed. Seems like we're not the only guests though." Jarvan said in a hushed tone. He pointed to where a beautiful blonde woman clad in gold and crimson armor stood off to one side of the open area in the bottom of the chamber. She was striking, though not just for her piercing blue eyes, but also the massive feathered wings that were perched along her back. The wings almost dwarfed her, but with the cream colored feathers quivering slightly as she talked with a Demacian official, Jarvan couldn't help but be surprised. "I don't recognize her..."

"That would be Kayle." Garen said quietly. "She's a champion with the Institute of War. She serves as one of their Judicators, though she isn't strictly aligned with any one city-state." Jarvan frowned, looking over at Garen and then back to the blonde. She glanced up and met his gaze. Jarvan felt electricity course through his body, as if he had just been punched in the gut. Jarvan looked to the floor, blinking as his head began to swim. He found himself winded. _What the hell was that?_

"Sir?" Lee said, frowning, taking a half step towards Jarvan. "Are you well, sir?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Jarvan growled waving him off. He stood up straight and forced his breathing to calm, though his chest began to burn as his body struggled to catch its breath. He looked back to the blonde, but she had turned her back, now deep in conversation with one of the Demacian Legislators, a noble from one of the houses that Jarvan didn't recognize right away.

"You said, her name was Kayle, correct?" Jarvan said, doing his best to not let the nerves his felt betray in his voice. Garen nodded. Something warm filtered through the air, but it wasn't just the warmth of the heat that was being pumped into the room. He felt as if he was hanging in a plain of nothingness, fog rolling gently against his skin. _I... I recognize this presence._ Jarvan shivered, trying to banish the feeling of Déjà vu.

"Yes. I've been working with her closely regarding the Excursion case." Garen paused a moment to look down at her. "She's supposedly thousands of years old and from another dimension entirely." Jarvan glanced over at Garen, a frown on his face.

"Wait... she's..." His voiced trailed off. She's like Kampf and Faust... Jarvan frowned as a young man dressed in blue and gold robes stepped up towards him, breaking his chain of thought.

"Prince Lightshield?" Jarvan nodded in response to the question. "Welcome to the Council Chambers, sir. Seats for you and Captain Crownguard are just around here, sir." He gestured towards part way around the highest row of desks and seats that wrapped around the room. The young man, his black hair showing beneath his robes, led them towards the seats, where two large chair sat waiting. "Please, have a seat, sir."

"Thank you." Jarvan pulled out his seat and eased himself down, crossing his arms over his chest. Garen sat down next to him and looked down across the chamber as the guide disappeared.

"The meeting will now be brought to order!" High Councilor Elias shuffled through a stack of papers that had been given to him several days prior by his assistant. He frowned as he passed through several pieces of paper before settling on one and drawing it from the pile.

"I have a proposal to extend an ambassador to the Freljord." He paused for a brief moment before looking back to the council.

"It was my understanding that the council already had an emissary in the Freljord?" The king said from his seat directly to the left of the High Councilor. The High Councilor nodded his head.

"Councilor Spiritmight, if you'd like to explain your proposal..." The high councilor looked to his far right, about a quarter of the way around the circle of the first row of seats, to a lanky man with long brown hair. The gray eyed man nodded appreciatively, standing.

"Thank you, High Councilor." He bowed graciously. "I'd actually like to hand the explanations over to my son, the emissary to the Freljord." He gestured to the young man who sat next to him, his back rigid and a perfected smile upon his face as he stood and bowed to the councilors. "This is Lieutenant Colonel Robert Spiritmight, and as I mentioned, he has been serving as the emissary to the Freljord up until recently."

"Well, Colonel Spiritmight, perhaps you'd like to bring us up to date on the Freljord affairs, then?" The High Councilor wore an annoyed frown as the torch got passed to the military officer.

"Of course, High Councilor." Lt. Col Spiritmight stepped up from his seat on the lowest row of desks, and bowed to the councilors who surrounded him, many who nodded their respects. "As many of you know, I returned recently from a long period of time spent amid the freezing wastes of the Freljord provinces to our north. Hosted by our tentative allies amid the Avarosan Tribe and their well known princess and League Champion, Ashe, I was able to tour and explore much of the Freljord. It is a beautiful but dangerous country, as the death of one of my chief aides to the winter storms quickly proved."

"One of the most important political moments early in my visit to the Freljord was actually a somber event." The Lieutenant Colonel Had begun pacing slowly about, his hands clasped behind his back in a intense but well rehearsed stance that gave him a thoughtful but serious appearance. "Mid august of last year marked the passing of the leader of one of the Ice Dervish Tribe, Princess Mauvole, known to her enemies and friends as _the_ Ice Dervish. As the next princess of the Ice Dervish tribe was coronated, the princess made a shocking but driving political move. She called for the abandonment of their long standing isolationist policies, which had left them feeling the ravages of the hostile environment, internal strife, and external political pressures. She then moved for her tribe to put their pride aside and to unite the two tribes under the leadership of the Avarosan Tribe and their princess, Ashe, the Frost Archer. Much to my surprise, the new Dervish Princess's motions were well received by her tribe in their home city of Rakelstake."

"While Sejuani, the princess of the Winter's Claw made a public statement of her displeasure with the choices of the Dervish Princess, she took no action, though I fear she may be preparing for war."

"Are you implying she would be willing to face the other two tribes all on her own?" A council woman suggested, though Jarvan couldn't place the voice. "That's madness!"

"While our scouts, working with Avarosan Ice Rangers, were unable to determine any realistic prospect of the Winter's Claw military forces, there were some disturbing discoveries made. While trying to determine the actual strength of enemy forces and locate weapon stockpiles, food stores and medical supplies, our scouts encountered units that were believed to be elements of a Noxian Expeditionary Brigade." He paused for effect, and listened with a muted smile as a murmur of dissent passed through the councilors. "Unfortunately, when my men tried to confirm this information... they sustained an eighty percent loss of forces to a combination of wild creatures and an avalanche while they tried to flee from said wild beast."

"What sort of wild beast was so fearsome that both Avarosan Ice Ranger and Demacian Scouts were driven to run like cowards?" Jarvan spoke aloud from the back of the room, a mix of fascination and anger in his voice. There was a ripple of whispers from the council as chairs scraped along the stone and people arched their necks to look to where the Prince sat at the top of the room.

"Ah yes, Prince Lightshield IV," Lieutenant Colonel Spiritmight said, gesturing to the young prince, bowing in his direction. "As I recall, you spent a period of time roaming the wastes of Freljord in search of the biggest and nastiest threats you could find, correct?" Jarvan nodded slowly. "Then you could easily understand why the scouts ran into problems, considering they were equipped for long distance travel and silent movement, rather than troops of the line, similar to the warriors you led to the slaughter." Jarvan pushed himself to his feet, ready to vault the distance that separated him from the man who had dared insult him and his men. He bared his teeth in a snarl as his chair hit the floor as he jumped up, his mouth open to shout when the gavel struck the High Councilors' podium with a sharp _crack._

"That was uncalled for, Lieutenant Colonel." The high councilor said with an ominous frown.

"Apologies to both the Council and the Prince." The lieutenant colonel said with a well crafted frown. He bowed in Jarvan's direction as Jarvan scowled at him, accepting the chair that Sergeant Lee had lifted and set on all four legs. "I merely meant to get across the point that these troops valued their lives and this information, which they believed to be immensely valuable. While I did reprimand the few survivors, I believed the worth of the information to be invaluable."

"Do you have any suggestions for action with regards to this information?" The king wore a similarly serious and unamused expression to the one Jarvan had plastered over his face as he watched his uncle talk.

"While I don't think that the appearance of Noxian forces in the Freljord is surprising, their alliance with the Winter's Claw is slightly disturbing. Noxus has long been conducting missions aimed at the cleansing of barbarians in the far north know as the 'Barbarian Pacification Campaign', and I believe it was this information that finally drove the barbarians to seek an alliance with the Avarosan-Dervish alliance that now stands. While they may have been seeking political refuge from the likes of Noxus, the Barbarians did proceed to form an alliance, lead by Princess Ashe, the Frost Archer, and Tryndamere, the Barbarian king." Spiritmight paused, giving the council time to grow anxious. "It was the product of this unification of forces that led to the recent ascension of the Freljord to City-State status, and their acceptance of the Institute of War. With the accepted strength of both the Avarosan and Dervish tribes, bolstered by Tryndamere's barbarians, Princess Ashe was accepted as the Queen of the Freljord, _appointing_ Tryndamere as her King to confirm and bolster their alliance." A smattering of applause seemed to wash around the room, and though everyone knew it was directed at the new strength rising to face Demacia, Jarvan watched as Spiritmight seemed to bask in the glory. He raised a fist into the air triumphantly.

"Now, the Freljord is growing to become one of Demacia's strongest allies, though they are still struck by the internal strife caused by tensions with Sejuani's continued control of the Winter's Claw." He smiled as he let his arms spread out before him. "I would like to request the council open talks with the Freljord to expand our existing trade treaties and establish a formal alliance."

"While your political optimism is appreciated, Lieutenant Colonel, I think I speak for the council when I say we will need more time to consider our options when dealing with the new City-State of the Freljord." Councilor Laurent said aloud. While the council didn't offer words, Jarvan could look around and see that the general consensus was to adopt a wait and see attitude.

"Why wait, though?" Spiritmight said with a frown. "If we support this burgeoning nation it will only prove to benefit us in the long run..." When he received no support from the other councilors, frustration flooded over his face. His shoulders tightened, his arms trembling with rage. "This is utterly asinine! We should move now while the fruit is ripe!"

"Lieutenant Colonel, while your enthusiasm is appreciated, you will refrain from such outbursts in these council chambers or I will see to it you never return here." The High Councilor growled, rubbing his temples. Spiritmight looked fit to burst for a few moments till he took a deep breath and smoothed his uniform jacket with a tug and swipe of his hands.

"Apologies to the council." He bowed. "That concludes my report on the Freljord."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel." The High Councilors said firmly as Spiritmight took his seat. Silence filled the room for several moments. He sighed, rubbing his fingers over his temples in a gesture of frustration. "With this revelation of Noxian intent, it only reinforces the fact that information about Noxus is scarce these days." The High councilor said, prefacing the next topic, shaking his head as he laced his fingers on the desk before him. "Without a steady source of information regarding Noxian policies and developments, we'll be left open to ambush. Any information would be useful... has anyone heard anything useful to Demacia and her people? The floor is open."

"There is rumor of Yordle racism in Noxus..."

"Short of driving the already isolationist Yordle nation further into their own camp, what does that prove?" Councilor Buvelle said, her black hair swaying gently as she cocked her head, looking around the room. "We maintain positive relations and trade with the Yordles as best we can, despite their desires to try and separate themselves from the rest of Valoran. Their ambassador, Poppy, is active within the city and helps maintain the strong Yordle-Demacian relations through her actions in the Institute of War."

"They could easily destroy any prospect of ever hoping to maintain political relations with the Yordles." Councilor Krackoffen said, raising his voice to carry over the whispers and to silence the room. He stood, letting his thin shoulders spread to try and match the other councilor's bulk. "I dare say I mean no disrespect to the Yordle population both here in Demacia and across Valoran, but this is both beneficial for us and detrimental to the Noxians."

"While I appreciate Councilor's Buvelle's praise of my work, I feel as though I am as much Demacian as I am Yordle." Poppy, ambassador to Bandle City, said from the top row of the council chambers. Several of the Councilor's looked shocked to see her in attendance. While she was extended the right to sit in on her request, many of the other councilor's had obviously missed her presence. "It shames my Demacian pride to think that you would support the discrimination of our people for your own benefit."

"As I said, I meant no insult or injury to anyone when I said my brazen statement." Councilor Krackoffen said, running a hand over his salt and pepper beard, brown eyes dancing brightly. "However, I must ask, do you or any of your people have any intent to venture to Noxus any time soon?"

"I understand, councilor, but it isn't merely a matter so simple as to whether my countrymen and women ever venture into Noxus." Poppy growled, though Jarvan watched with some noticeable pleasure as the Yordle warrior struggled to keep the disgust at the council's underhanded measures out of her voice.

"But it is that simple!" Councilor Krackoffen said, starting to get to his feet again, fire now burning in his brown eyes. "We may not be at war at this moment, but as you know, Ambassador Poppy, both Bandle City and Demacia have felt the terrors of Noxian oppression in the past! If we stand by and do nothing, or allow Bandle City to lock horns with Noxus of their own volition, we can strengthen our relations with the Bandle City!" He spread his arms and smiled as a chorus of silent nods passed through the chambers. "You share full and equal rights here in Demacia, ambassador, please tell me Yordle-kind isn't nearly so arrogant as to let what Noxus thinks influence their politics?" The ambassador crossed her diminutive blue arms across her chest and remained silent for many moments.

"While I find your tact to be less than admirable," Poppy said with a sigh, "I can see the logic. Can we return to the topic of the discussion though?"

"Yes of course." Councilor Krackoffen said, resuming his seat, a bit of color in his face.

"Does anyone have news from Noxus?" The High Councilor said with a frown. "Anyone?"

Jarvan frowned as he looked down at the desk in front of him. _I should tell the council of the possible division within Noxian High Command... _Jarvan felt his hands convulse into fists along the top of his pant legs underneath the desk. He glared down at the desk. _Personal safety or the strength of my nation..._ Jarvan began to feel sick to his stomach. _If I say anything both Katarina and I will be arrested on so many counts of treason my father wouldn't even be able to save me. _Jarvan grimaced. _He'd probably swing the headman's ax himself._

"Perhaps the prince, who recently had a rematch with his eternal enemy, Jericho Swain, has some news from Noxus?" Jarvan started briefly, his heart fluttering for a moment. He shook off the moment of shock as quickly as he could, turning back to the councilors. Jarvan felt the eyes of the council chambers return to him once more.

_I don't have any evidence beside the testament of two Noxian Assassins and Shyvana... _Jarvan closed his eyes for a brief moment and then shook his head to clear his thoughts. He pushed himself to his feet and bowed briefly. "I'm sorry councilor, but I do not."

"Then perhaps you'd like to explain why you returned with a half dragon in your service?" Lieutenant Colonel Spiritmight said nonchalantly. "Did you ever consider that your rather cute, young friend could be a Noxian spy?" Spiritmight looked down at a piece of parchment of his desk and then looked back at Jarvan. "And what's this about you nearly getting killed by her within the Noxian Gladiatorial arena? Maybe you've something to say about that?" Spiritmight sat back with a smug grin on his face, wondering how exactly the Prince would explain himself out of this one. Jarvan clenched his fists, the desire to throttle the arrogant officer gradually rising, but he did his best to try and maintain his composure, taking a deep breath and letting a frown settle on his face.

"Initially I was presumed to be dead by my company, however, unbeknownst to them, I had been captured by Noxian Forces under the command of Jericho Swain." Jarvan growled, fitting Spiritmight with a piercing glare. "Shyvana, my draconian companion you seem so interested in slandering, was searching for the would-be assassin at the time, venturing into Noxus."

"She only had a small amount of coin with her, which to my understanding she used to enter a gladiator's grudge match with heavy odds against her. She won this competition rather handily, resulting in the deaths of three of Noxus's prize fighters, and was scouted to become a Gladiator for the Noxian people's entertainment. When the previous Noxian Gladiator heard about her rising fame, entirely word of mouth I might add, he took it into his own hands to eliminate this threat to his fame and fortune. However, Noxian forces had her under surveillance during this time and they were able to keep her from facing an unfortunate fate. I was captured and imprisoned during this time, at the orders of Swain himself, though General Darius was the one who carried the order out. Seeking to spark an international war, he tried to have me executed by my own companion's hand in a gladiator battle. I'm still uncertain if this was intentional or simply a cruel twist of fate, but with Shyvana's _unique_ strengths, we were able to escape the arena and flee into the city."

"I see." Spiritmight said tersely, struggling to keep his incredulous expression under control. Chatter had risen to the point where it was almost hard to hear yourself think in the council. "Well... I... uh..."

"Apologies for the abruptness of my report." Jarvan said bowing as the chatter subsided, "However, I do not appreciate attacks on my personnel without them being here to defend themselves. If you would like to question her, and I am sure she would be glad to answer any questions you had, you can summon her, Lieutenant Colonel Spiritmight, she was assigned to _your_ training battalion."

"Would you like to summon her?" The king said with a small grin tugging at his son's audacity and guts. "Well Lieutenant Colonel?" The attention had faded from Jarvan and had shifted to Spiritmight.

"No, sir." Spiritmight said tersely.

"Good, then perhaps we can continue?" The king growled. "Jarvan, If you please draft a detailed report of your time in Noxus to be analyzed..."

"Of course, your highness." Jarvan said. His father nodded his thanks and then turned to the High Councilor.

"If there is no other news to discuss then we shall-... Councilor Crownguard, you have news?" The High Councilor looked to where the tall, broad, mountain of a man that was Marcus Crownguard had stood. His clear blue eyes were placid and the head of the Crownguard family simply nodded his thanks.

"I apologize for not putting this forward earlier, but it has come to my attention that a drastic change has occurred in Noxus." A murmur passed through he other councilors as Captain Crownguard cleared his throat and stood up taller, as if that were possible. "Marcus Du Couteau, the infamous assassin and advocate of the League of Legends, and staunch supporter of the current Grand General, Boram Darkwill, has disappeared. In a disturbing and rather drastic turn of event, Lieutenant General Jericho Swain was promoted to fill the now absent spot within the Noxian High Command."

Another louder murmur passed through the council chambers. Jarvan had to close his mouth, slightly stunned as he sat back in his seat. "So that means..." He shook his head and ran a hand over his mouth, staring down at Councilor Crownguard. _Katarina thinks Swain may be behind the disappearance of her father then. If this information is true there really might be a division of power developing in Noxus. This could very well spell their downfall!_

"Silence!" The crack of the High Councilor's gavel striking the table muted the voices that had risen in almost an almost hysterical manner. Jarvan looked back towards the mountainous councilor. "Please, continue Councilor Crownguard."

"Thank you." Councilor Crownguard settled into a parade rest stance, his hands clasped at the small of his back. "Jericho Swain is an audacious and ambitious man, infamous for his brutal but effective actions in the Demacian-Noxian Border wars in the years after the introduction of the Institute of War. He was a continuing advocate of the renewal of conflicts, voicing his disgust with Noxian High Command's decision to so willingly give in to the weak minded peace advocates of the League of Legends. He is a known inciter of conflict, going so far as to attempt the assassination of Prince Jarvan IV when he was only thirteen, the first major incident marring the peace that followed the Armistice between Noxus and Demacia."

"The only other incident we have been able to definitively connect Swain with was the capture and subsequent decimation of Exemplar Company of the 8th King's Guard Battalion, over two years ago." Jarvan felt whispers about him begin to pass through the room and it made him feel sick. "Other than that, there are dozens of Noxian conspiracies and attacks that he is suspected of perpetrating. We can expect Noxian ideals and sentiments to turn change for the decidedly violent. We should consider increasing the border patrols and garrisons in outlying towns. While I don't know if action will be necessary right away, we should begin planning contingencies in the eventuality that Swain will move aggressively on Demacia."

"My staff can begin planning said contingencies, and with my son's help, we should be able to analyze what we know of his tactics to form a plan." The king said, nodding thoughtfully.

"Of course, sir." Councilor Crownguard returned to his seat.


	6. Chapter 5: Judicator

"Shall we continue, High Councilor?" The king said with a hand gesturing to get things rolling.

The High Councilor lifted a piece of parchment from his desk and glanced over it. He frowned then turned to the councilors and scanned the members for a brief moment before his eyes settled not far from where Jarvan sat. "Captain Crownguard, perhaps you would like to brief the Council on any new developments with the investigation regarding the DDS Excursion?"

"Of course, councilor." Garen said, standing up. He gestured for his lieutenant to follow before stepping behind Jarvan and then proceeding down to the center of the council chambers.

"Thank you for this chance, esteemed council members." Garen said, bowing gracefully. "As many of you know, I, Garen Crownguard, was chosen to lead the Demacian investigation of the loss of the DDS Excursion and all of her hands. The DDS Excursion is a Cargo Sloop who was reported lost at sea in July of year 20, CLE. Bound to the the Freljord Ports of the Avarosan Tribes to open the way for Lt. Col. Spiritmight's political venture she supposedly capsized in the rough seas. While we were able to determine that the ship was lost amid the Conqueror's sea, we have had trouble determining why or where the ship disappeared."

"Captain, I was led to believe that the ship was lost due to a freak summer storm." Councilor Brightstorm said aloud, a frown beneath his long blonde hair that fell neatly around his face. "And yet you say it was 'supposedly' lost to the storm. Could you please explain what you mean?"

"Of course, councilor. Our investigations have recently turned up further information that has led us to believe that the _attack_ was the result of piracy, not a freak storm." Garen said sternly. "While there was indeed a heavy storm at the time, with the help of my Institute colleague, we've determined it was not nearly as bad as we were first led to believe."

"What, dare I ask, led to these conclusions? What proof do you have of this information?" Councilor Spiritmight said, his son, the Lt. Col., sitting back as if he had just whispered something to his father. Garen scowled as the Lt. Colonel sat back with a smug smile. "If you have something to show us to convince us..." Garen began to open his mouth to protest when the very blonde, gold armor wearing woman stepped forth to stand amid the lowest row of seats along the council chambers. The quivering of her wings immediately drew the attention of the entire council.

"While your accusations may come with malcontent, Councilor, I did not come before this council to make pleasantries." She bowed her head gracefully as her giant, cream colored wings quivered irritably behind her. "At the request of Demacia, as a member of the Institute of War, I was dispatched to offer all of my knowledge and wisdom to help get to the bottom of this most grievous of incidents. Greetings, council members, I am Kayle the Judicator." Silence followed as the angelic being was greeted with a mix of nods and shakes of the head.

"Judicator Kayle, what information can you possibly produce?" Councilor Spiritmight said, a frown now clear on his face.

"As Lieutenant Colonel Spiritmight, your son, can well confirm, as he was in Freljord at the time, the storm wasn't nearly of the magnitude it was report as." The look of fury the elder Spiritmight gave his son told the council that the Lieutenant Colonel hadn't mentioned it. "Captain Crownguard and I proceeded to the Avarosan Capital to speak with Ashe, the Frost Archer herself, about the storm. She confirmed that while the seas would have been choppy, they would not have led to the sinking of a ship."

"From there we began searching for the wreckage of the ship, but unfortunately, nothing but jettisoned cargo has been found." Garen paused, frowning at his lack of success. "I've extended a request for assistance from the Blue Flame isles. Their knowledge of deep water dredging and salvage techniques would be invaluable. With Kayle's assistance we additionally asked a fellow Champion, the representative of Bilgewater, Gangplank, for his assistance in the operations. However, he declined."

"You seriously asked the son of Vincent the Shadow for help?" An anonymous voice said incredulously.

"In times of emergency, you should never write off an alternative before even investigating it." Kayle said bluntly.

"There is more information, though." Garen said, warding off further arguments that he could feel welling in the room. Silence settled over the council chamber. "Early in my investigations, a small amount of wreckage _was_ recovered along the shores of the Freljord. It was at that point we turned to the League for assistance and Kayle was dispatched to assist."

"With help of League Summoners, we were able to determine that magics above the maximum potency allowed by the Institute of War was used in the attack, as well as necromancy." Kayle said firmly.

"Necromancy?" Councilor Spiritmight chimed, rolling his eyes. "You don't expect me to believe you found Noxian Necromantic Sorcery upon a boards from the ship..."

"Actually no, but the remains of a reanimated corpse wrapped in the singed remains of part of the sloop's mast and rigging was a rather clear indication." Kayle said evenly, watching as Spiritmight's eyes seemed to bug out as chuckles passed through the council chambers. "While piracy in all forms plagues every city-state, only two city-states allow the practice of Necromancy."

"Zaun and Noxus." The king growled, sinking a bit in his seat.

"Yes, your highness." Garen said, nodding.

"What did constituents of their respective city-states say about it?" Councilor Krackoffen asked curiously.

"While Zaun has refused to respond, Katarina Du Couteau had some choice words in response about our trade tactics. However she denied Noxian involvement in the attack." Garen shrugged and frowned. "Unfortunately, we are still investigating further leads, but both Kayle and my involvements in Kalamanda have delayed our furthering the investigation."

"Thank you, Captain, Miss Kayle." The High Councilor said, nodding at the blonde. She bowed shallowly and returned to her seat, as Garen bowed deeply, backing away as he turned and proceeded back to his seat.

"Good job." Jarvan said quietly as Garen sat down next to him and exhaled heavily.

"Your uncle and grandfather are a real pain, you know that?" Garen said, shaking his head.

"I've heard as much." Jarvan said with a soft chuckle. "Robert is a real hardliner with political ambitions, and Haywood is trying to secure the Spiritmight line before turning it over to Robert after he's done with his tenure in the military, making a mark amid the ranks and such."

"Figures." Garen growled, rolling his eyes. "Politics."

"With the council's permission, I'd like to propose a recess for several days." The king said, standing. "I know Kalamanda is still weighing heavily on everyone's minds right now, and I'd like the time to prepare and gather more information and ascertain a finalized docket of exactly what we're facing in the region. With supplies and our own troops now on the way to reinforce the town, I can't offer an accurate reaction to what will change in the near future."

"Are there any qualms with the King's request?" High Councilor Elias said, looking around the room. He was met with silence. "Very well. This Council will recess for two days, at which point we will reconvene to discuss the issue of the Kalamanda Mineral Rights dispute. This council is dismissed." Jarvan turned and glanced around the room, waiting for the gavel to strike the desk and signal the fact that he could finally get out of the council chambers, which were a bit too warm for his tastes. Something dangerous flashed through Kayle's eyes as they locked for a brief moment. Electricity surged through Jarvan's body as he felt all of his hair stand on end and then he felt as if he had been slammed in the gut. He shivered as he tried to hide the fact he was winded, looking around, utter silence creating a void around him.

Jarvan looked to his left and then to his right, frowning as the entire council chambers stood frozen. Jarvan pushed himself up and looked to Garen, a frown dark on his face.

"Garen?" Jarvan waved his hand in front of the soldier's face. "Garen!"

"He's in temporal stasis right now." A strong voice said from the bottom of the room. Jarvan felt his throat go dry as he looked back at Garen, the man completely frozen mid movement. "He'll be fine as soon as we're finished."

"What did you do to him?" Jarvan snarled, glaring down at the woman who stood serenely in the middle of the room. "Who are you! A Noxian assassin?"

Kayle's laughter filled the room, her voice rich, feminine, and full of strength. "Heavens, no." She wore an entertained smile as she bowed her head. "I am who I appear to be, Jarvan Lightshield IV, Kayle, a Judicator of the institute of War." Jarvan started down the stairs towards the Judicator, but he paused, running his hands along a councilor's robes. The fabric flowed freely, swaying normally beneath her arm.

"What... what is this?" Jarvan stammered, frowning as he looked around. His father, the High Councilor, his uncle and grandfather were all frozen. "Everyone is …frozen."

"We are contained within a temporal stasis bubble." She gestured to the men and women in the room. "They will be fine when I collapse the bubble. A half second of queasiness at most."

"How then... how did you do this?" Jarvan dared not advance any further than the last step along the bottom of the stairs that led to the center of the chambers. Kayle lifted a golden chain from her armored collar, revealing an hourglass that wasn't much larger in diameter than Jarvan's thumb.

"This is the artifact known as Zhonya's Hourglass." Kayle said, holding the hourglass on her palm. "It is capable to granting the user the ability to briefly freeze themselves in a miniscule time-space bubble where they are unable to be harmed, or if you know how to use it, you can do this." She gestured to the room. "A large time-space bubble that freezes all energy in the area the user projects it over."

"You mean..." Jarvan started to poke someone.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, anything they _could_ feel, they _will_ feel." Kayle said softly. "However, the workings of a League artifact is unimportant right now." Jarvan said nothing, still refusing to move closer. "I come with a warning, Prince Lightshield. A ring with powers similar to this was stolen from the Arcane Vault. While we've been unable to determine who stole the artifact, we have reason to believe you may be a target for assassination."

"Me?" Jarvan said, frowning. "Why m-... you think the Noxian forces are behind it?" He narrowed his eyes as Kayle shook her head, pale golden locks bouncing around her face.

"Not the Noxians specifically, but someone within the institute with Noxian or Zaunite sympathies." She shrugged with some effort, her armor shifting as she did. Jarvan paused, frowning.

"I thought the Judicators were supposed to be unbiased?" Jarvan said, shifting from foot to foot. "Why are you warning me?"

"We are." Kayle said stiffly, though Jarvan saw a sliver of a frown upon her lips. "The issue stems from several things." She shook her head. "My sister serves Noxian summoners in exchange for untold power. While I refuse to take sides, anything that limits the power she can receive from the Noxian Summoners furthers my goals."

"So this is personal?" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, it is for the sake of peace." Kayle said firmly, meeting his gaze again. "I do not want a war to start between Demacia and Noxus, and while both city-states have made substantial motions to maintain that peace, the Institute of War hasn't overlooked the build up of forces on both sides. If you were to be assassinated, it would easily spark a war from which there would be no survivors." She sighed, her shoulders sinking slightly. "I fear that someone within the league is encouraging the prospect of war. If someone sparks a conflict, the results will likely be bloody and swift. Which brings me to my purpose here."

"You desire me to work as a brake on the Demacian war machine." Jarvan said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes." Kayle said, meeting his openly brazen glare with a neutral expression. "I need someone I can trust who will serve to keep the Demacians from striking out violently in response to anything that may happen in the coming months. With so many different forces conspiring against our unsteady peace, Demacia needs someone who sees sense and has the country's best interests, not just the country's expansion in mind. You seem to be in the perfect position to do so."

"Makes sense..." Jarvan said, frowning. "I'll do what I can but I don't know if I'll be of any use." He shook his head, glowering. "Many people doubt my conviction and my motives. I don't have much in the way of political traction either." Jarvan shrugged. "Power? I have that in spades, but I don't know if I'd be able to make anything happen... People don't have any reason to trust me. The last two times I had a company, they kinda all died. People don't like that in a leader. Besides, I don't know if I could stand by and let Noxus dance on our graves." He fitted Kayle with a sad smile.

"All I ask is that you keep Demacia from walking into a trap." Kayle said softly. Jarvan tried to look defiant, but his frown softened and he nodded.

"I'll do what I can." Jarvan said with a sigh.

"Thank you." Kayle smiled, as if she had been relieved of a great burden. "And if I could make a suggestion..." Jarvan looked to her for a moment and then nodded, gesturing that she continue on. "You should surround yourself with powerful allies, both in fighting skill and political prowess. You are going to need the support of your nation in this world. You can no longer bull your way through ignoring politics and trying to slay foes who stand before you. The world has become much more complex than that."

"I have surrounded myself with strong warriors and political strength flows in my family." Jarvan said defiantly, sticking out his chest. The gesture softened a bit as Jarvan shook his head and exhaled heavily. "But I shall take your words under advisement."

"I urge that you do." Kayle said softly. "And I hope you haven't forgotten your obligation to the League you promised me..." Jarvan blanked for a moment and then his eyes went wide.

"I was right! That was you!" Jarvan said scowling. "I was dead though, how were you able to..." He frowned as Kayle smiled.

"That was me, yes." Kayle said with a smile. "The League maintains many powerful artifacts. While you may have been dead for a short period, I have long been watching the movements of both you and Katarina Du Couteau. When your first encounter turned sour, I thought you would be able to go underground and discover answers to this darkening conspiracy that surrounds you and Miss Du Couteau." Kayle's expression darkened. "I left you in stasis with the intent of reviving you and summoning you to the League of Legends to complete your obligation, but you managed to brute force your way out of the induced stasis and were promptly captured by Noxian forces."

"Did you have to let me get buried?" Jarvan growled, trying to hide his shock with anger.

"You have a very loyal lover in your dragon companion, Prince." Kayle said with a faint smile playing over her lips. "I know not if she's told you, but she spent three days guarding your body, almost to the point of death by dehydration. She is strong and loyal, a powerful ally."

Jarvan stared at the ground.. He hadn't heard about that detail.

"I know." He said meekly, a bit of color flowing into his cheeks.

"Our time is running short." Kayle said, nodding. "If you would like to accompany me to the Institute of War to complete your promise now, I can ensure your safety from anything or anyone that may try..." She fell silent as Jarvan smiled and raised his hand.

"While I don't think I can thank you enough for the warning, I haven't forgotten my promise." Jarvan said with a somber expression. "I have some prior obligations I must see to before I am able to commit to the Institute of War though. When I am through with them, or as soon as I am able, I will join the League."

"Thank you." Kayle said, a firm but warm smile on her face. "I'm going to revert the temporal rift. You should return to your seat." Jarvan nodded and moved to his chair, careful to duck between Lee and Garen. He slumped down and sighed heavily, running a hand over his face.

_What the hell have I gotten myself into..._

The gavel struck the desk with a loud _crack._

"I'm glad that's over." Garen said, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck and letting his broad shoulders sink slightly lower in his chair. "I wasn't exactly looking forward to dealing the councilors grilling me about Kalamanda as well." Jarvan shook the moment of disorientation off as he flexed his hand and took a deep breath.

"I need to go fight someone." Jarvan muttered, glaring down towards where several councilors circled around his Uncle Robert. Jarvan grimaced. He had never liked the man, and while he had proved a loyal officer, there had always been tension between Jarvan's father and his brother-in-law. When Jarvan III had ascended to the throne, he had become nigh-untouchable. When that had happened, Robert Spiritmight's attention had turned to that of his nephew, the then young Prince Jarvan. Jarvan pushed himself to his feet and stretched his arms above his head.

"Sir?" Garen raised an eyebrow as he looked up at the prince curiously. "Who do you need to fight?"

"Not one person... just... someone." He hopped in place briefly, trying to stretch the muscles in his legs out. "I can't stand these infernal meetings."

"I thought you seemed restless." Garen said, shaking his head.

"Maybe I should go drop in on Shyvana... see if she needs a sparring partner." Jarvan grinned at the idea, but Garen's frown told him that it would probably end up being a bad idea. "Well maybe you'd like to go a round or two?"

"What and whoop your ass in front of these young, impressionable troops?" Garen said jerking a thumb over his shoulder at Jarvan's two guards.

"In your dreams, maybe." Jarvan snarled, a bit more venom in his voice than he intended. Garen shrugged and turned to head to the door, waiting for the councilors and their aides to stop clogging the way.

_I wonder what I have up next?_ Jarvan sighed, shifting from foot to foot. _I miss Shyvana already and it's barely been two days. _While he had been lost amid his thoughts, he had completely missed the muted clank of metal boots on the ground.

"Jarvan?" Garen spoke aloud, grasping his shoulder.

"Huh?" Jarvan blinked, looking about as he snapped himself back to the real world. "Sorry, I..." Garen coughed into his fist and silenced Jarvan, the prince getting the hint before he was able to make a further fool of himself. Before him stood the woman who was clad in gold and crimson armor. Up close, Jarvan realized there was an inhuman beauty to the woman not unlike that of Shyvana, but somehow, Kayle was different, as if she were ethereal. He had missed it during the discussion before, but now that she stood only a few feet away, it was almost haunting. She had piercing blue eyes that were so brilliant they gleamed like the sky, and hair that shimmered almost as rich a color as her gold armor framed her face.

"This is Kayle the Judicator." Garen said officially. Jarvan blushed slightly as she extended her hand and gave him a warm smile. Jarvan accepted her grasp and shook briefly. He tried to draw his hand back, but her grip tightened slightly and she met his gaze, her piercing blue eyes cutting through him. A chill ran down his spine as a familiar sensation washed over his body, as if he was suddenly weightless and floating in a void. He blinked a few times and the sensation passed as Kayle finally let go of his hand.

Jarvan forced a smile onto his face to mask the confusion he felt at having her approach him again. He blanked for a moment and then tried to let the smile spread. "Greetings, Judicator Kayle, Welcome to Demacia." He met her gaze and gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

"I've heard many great things about you, Prince Lightshield." Her voice was strong and commanding, though it carried a warmth to it that told Jarvan that she was not simply being polite. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Please, call me Jarvan." He said, nodding. "Getting called Lightshield makes me feel like my father."

Kayle laughed throatily, a smile crossing her face as she nodded knowingly. "When you've lived several millennium, you learn that trying to fill your father's shoes only allows you to tread where he has tread." She paused, glancing towards where the king stood amid a crowd of soldiers, aides and council members. "But even for my first few centuries of life I yearned for my father's success." She adopted a somber tone as she spoke, shaking her head slightly as her wings quivered behind her. She turned back to Jarvan and had to hide a giggle when he caught himself staring at her.

"Apologies, I had only heard rumors of your age..." Jarvan said quietly. "It should have not come as a shock, a close friend of mine, her father that is, was several thousands of years old." Something dangerous flashed through Kayle's eyes as they locked for a brief moment.

"I'd love to meet this friend of yours if possible." Kayle said with a smile, "I've long studied Runeterra's history in the hopes of learning from past mistakes to prevent them from being repeated. If she knows anything that could help..."

"I'll ask her if she'd be willing." Jarvan said, nodding, wondering if he'd even be able to have the chance to go visit Shyvana so he could ask. "Garen, are you familiar with the training schedule that the battalion uses?" Garen frowned as he glanced at Jarvan.

"Apologies sir, I do not." He said tersely, his disapproval clear upon his face.

"Alas, another time then." Kayle said, smiling. She put a hand on Jarvan's shoulder. _Take care of yourself, and stay vigilant. _"Good bye, Prince Jarvan. It was a pleasure to finally meet you."

"And you, Kayle." Jarvan nodded. As she turned to leave, a voice hailed her from below.

"I'd like to thank the league's diligence for responding to our summons." Jarvan III paused as he approached the door, nodding at the League Champion. "The Institute and your assistance had been invaluable so far."

"Thank you for your kind words, your majesty." Kayle said, bowing her head gracefully. "I'm hoping that there won't be any more delays in these matters, but I fear the worst regarding the mining dispute in Kalamanda."

"Demacia shall prevail, I have no doubt." The king said, nodding and grinning.

"While many would view blind confidence as inspiring, I have often viewed it as an ulterior motive at work." Kayle said, her voice neutral.

"Was that a threat, Judicator?" The king growled, stopping and turning fully towards Kayle, raising himself up slightly as if his stature would intimidate her. His eye had darkened to the color of thunderheads, and Jarvan could have sworn he saw lightning crackle in the king's glare.

"Consider it a warning." Kayle said, still maintaining a placid expression. The king straightened up, a frown half hidden behind his beard.

"I'll keep it in mind." The king said sternly. "Captain, I recall you were escorting the Judicator to Kalamanda?"

Garen nodded. "Yes, sir. We depart this afternoon."

"Very well." The king said, turning. Garen took the hint to escort the Judicator out and gestured that she follow. While she didn't let her displeasure at being all but told to leave, she simply nodded with a polite smile upon her face.

"This way, ma'am." Garen waved his goodbye to Jarvan and then disappeared with the Judicator following in his wake.

The king watched them go, finally turning back to his son. "Jarvan, are you busy?"

"I believe this was the last scheduled meeting for the day." Jarvan frowned, thinking back to his schedule. "I had planned to go and examine the training grounds and then have dinner with Shy-..."

"I'd like you to begin working with Councilor Crownguard's staff immediately. I'll assign you an administrative assistant to assist you in your planning, as well " He gave his son a glare that was as menacing as it was icy, daring his son to oppose his will. "And I would like that report on your actions in Noxus as well. Have your assistant duplicate it and forward a copy to the Councilor's staff to include in his analysis of Swain's involvement in Noxus."

"Yes, sir." Jarvan growled. "Anything else, sir?"

"Brush up on the existing reports from Kalamanda. Have one of your men talk to the clerk in my office and have them send you the files." The king paused.

"Anything else?" Jarvan said through clenched teeth.

"Your mother asked for you to attend dinner with us tonight." The king scratched his chin, a pondering look on his face. "Be ready at seven."

"Anything else?" Jarvan growled.

"I'd like it all done before the reconvened Council Meeting." Jarvan's jaw hit the floor.

"That's not enough time to get all that done..." Jarvan stammered.

"You'll do it and you'll like it." His father's eyes clouded over, a deep, menacing blue color. Jarvan opened his mouth to protest about how he wouldn't have any time to share with Shyvana, but the angered looked his father wore told him that may have been the idea. Jarvan swallowed his anger and saluted as the king's glare softened. He nodded approvingly and then turned on his heel, disappearing into the crowd of soldiers and councilors, nothing but a sea of blue and gold color remaining in his wake. Jarvan clenched his fists and sighed, gathering his thoughts. He turned to his escorts.

"Sergeant Lee, go find one of Councilor Crownguard's aides and set up a meeting between the councilor and myself." Jarvan ran a hand over his face, suddenly feeling much more tired than he should have this early in the afternoon. "And see if you can scare up any more news from Noxus. Then find Noel and have her bring a pot of coffee to my study, we're going to need it."

"Sir." Lee saluted and spun, disappearing to complete his orders.

"Sergeant Delancey, head to the academy and check their archives for any records on Swain's marital service and any history of before he joined the Noxian Military." Jarvan paused. "When you're done with that, fetch me the reports from the clerks in the king's office and take them all to my study. Oh and see if he's already assigned a secretary to me."

"Uh... yes sir." She said, hesitantly.

"Problem Delancey?" Jarvan raised an eyebrow, as the blue and brown haired soldier frowned slightly, her normally smiling face somewhat conflicted. "If you've got an issue with my orders, just out and say it."

"Well sir, I graduated top of my class at the Demacian Military academy and I don't..." She wore a frown that told Jarvan that she was uncomfortable with his requests. Her blue locks of hair swayed as she shifted from foot to foot.

"Don't what, sergeant? You don't enjoy paper work?" Jarvan said, crossly as he leaned on the back of his chair he had sat in through the meeting. "Join the fucking party. I can't stand paperwork, and honestly, I don't enjoy _not_ getting to see my girlfriend because of it. If you'd like to log a formal complaint with personnel, be my guest." Jarvan stood up straighter and jabbed a finger through the air at her chest. "Do it when you hand in your resignation papers."

"Sir, I'd like to retract my statement, sir." Delancey said, tightly, snapping to attention. Jarvan sighed and he pinched the bridge of his nose as he collapsed against the back of the chair. He took off his helmet and shook his black hair down into his face for a brief moment before running his hand through his hair, sweeping it over the back of his head. He looked down at the crown and then shook his head, looking at Delancey, her eyes glued to the opposite wall, unwilling to risk even looking at Jarvan.

"Sorry, sergeant... I didn't mean that." Jarvan said, shaking his head slightly as he leaned a bit heavier against his chair. "It's just been a long couple of days." He waited for her to drop out of attention but he realized that she probably wouldn't till he gave her the command. "At ease, Delancey."

"Yes, sir." She said, the mix of anger, regret and determination a soldier wore when getting dressed down slowly beginning to melt. She looked at Jarvan and saw the almost pitiful look of depression on his face. "Prince Jarvan..."

"Look, if we're going to work together, just call me Jarvan when there aren't many others around." The prince said, pushing himself up and snapping his helm into place. "I have more than enough reminders of the responsibilities I carry right now. Walk with me." He waved for her to follow him, and started to head to the door.

"Yes, sir." She said again. Jarvan stopped several paces away and glanced over at her, his eyebrow twitching as he glared at her and she caught herself. "Oh! Uh... sure, Jarvan..."

"Better." Jarvan said nodding approvingly. He turned back and started walking, letting Delancey catch up before he picked his pace up. "I'm just a bit anxious after being cooped up in meeting after meeting for three days straight, all while being cut off from those who I've spent almost all of the last two months with. It's been difficult to adapt and I'm a bit like a hawk in a cage right now." He sighed, shaking his head. He stretched his arms above his head.

"I know what you mean." Delancey said, smiling, starting to reconsider the prince. "I'll meet you when I have the documents, sir."

"Good." Jarvan said, nodding. He watched as Delancey turned off down another hallway, leaving Jarvan alone in an intersection. He glanced at the clock and glowered, staring out of the large window as the sun started to pass the highest spires along the horizon.

_Sorry, Shy. I'll come see you as soon as I can._


	7. Chapter 6: Chickadee

Shyvana pulled the small piece of paper from her pocket and unfolded it, looking at the notes on it. She read down the list of instructions and then looked at the last line. _...and left at the large golden lion. _She nodded to herself and took a deep breath, starting up the steps. Shyvana passed the massive golden lion, pausing just a moment to glance into its gleaming emerald eyes. She continued up the steps and then stopped and looked up at the bell tower that hung high above the door. Cast iron reinforced heavy timbers that looked older than some of the ruins that dotted Shurima. She looked to the building itself, rough granite stone walls were reinforced by massive timbers, the dressed wood gleaming against the pale gray stone. She stepped up to one of the tall vertical timbers, and looked at the heavy timber. Hundreds of small marks marred the reinforcing pillar, as if someone had used it as a training dummy, swinging at the wood over and over. She ran her fingers over the wood, taking in the small ridges and bumps. Behind her, the door opened with a creak, and Shyvana took a half step backwards, sneaking her hands behind her back nervously.

"That's known as the Marking Post." The woman who stepped out of the door wore a happy smile, her pale skin gleaming like polished china as ghostly white bangs bounced around her face. She snapped to attention and saluted Shyvana. She had her long hair pulled back in a braid that swayed behind her, tied off with a ribbon of the Demacian gold and blue color. Her cheeks were flushed with just a bit of color but her haunted, deep red eyes immediately caused Shyvana to stare. The woman looked surprised for a moment but she gave Shyvana a glowing smile. "Hi, my name is Gunnery Sergeant Alicia Juniper, but you can call me June!" Her voice was polite and happy, almost to the point where it was sticky sweet.

"I was told to report to the Palace Barracks?" Shyvana said nervously, realizing she had been staring at Alicia's eyes. She glanced at the ground.

"You've come to the right place." Alicia said nodding, gesturing to the massive stone building.

"Gunny!" A gruff voice shouted from inside, cutting her off as she opened her mouth to continue.

"Coming, Lieutenant Vorscham!" Alicia shouted into the building, gesturing for Shyvana to follow. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the LT." Shyvana nodded and followed silently as Alicia led her past the Marking Post, the massive doors and into the darkened hallway, lit by flickering torches. A pair of soldiers approached from within, one with a large smile spreading over his face as he saw the two women approaching.

"Hey June, you got those new chocolate bars in yet?" A soldier shouted with a wide grin as Shyvana and Alicia passed.

"I only put the order in yesterday, Felix." June said testily, though she wore a smile. "They'll be in by next week. Now shoo, I'm on platoon business right now." The soldier glanced at Shyvana and frowned but shrugged and waved as he turned, heading for the door.

"See ya." He shouted as he strode away. Shyvana fell into step with Alicia, glancing at the woman as she hummed softly to herself. They passed through a tall archway and into a massive room.

Inside was a large room, spreading out along what looked like the majority of the front of the building. Chairs and tables were littered around the area, with a number of soldiers lazing about, some eating, some sharpening weapons. All eyes immediately turned to Shyvana as they entered, and she could see them all immediately begin to judge her. She could feel eyes both sizing her up and undressing her, and it made her skin crawl. Far to the right of the large, high vaulted ceilings was a cage that ran from ceiling to floor and it looked like it had once been an armory. Some arms were contained within, but from what Shyvana could see, it was mostly rifles and other things of the sort. To the far left was a small stall that was stocked with a mix of food, literature and other small things that most soldiers would need regularly.

"The armory is there to the right," Alicia pointed to the caged-in area, "And the PX is to the left." Shyvana gave her a quizzical look at she she pointed to the small stall.

"What is a pee-ex?" Shyvana asked, her brow creasing ever so slightly.

"Oh, well PX is short for Post Exchange, it's like a trading post or shop kind of thingy." Alicia wore a thoughtful expression as her voice trailed off with her explanation of the PX. It quickly corrupted into an embarrassed grin as she giggled at herself and then composed herself, letting the smile remain on her lips. "The PX doubles as the quartermaster's post as well. If you need any equipment or anything like that, you can come and see me there or in my quarters and I'll get you set." Shyvana nodded as she continued to look around. A large fire pit was set into the ground at the center of the common area, and a large fire crackled within. A soldier in heavy Demacian armor leaned on a chair next to the fire, holding a piece of meat on a long stick out over the flames, the smell of roasting meat reminding Shyvana of just how hungry she was. Alicia pointed down past the fire place towards a long hallway. "The dormitories are that way, both male and female, and a few other places including the dining hall, the showers and such." They stepped up to another man who was sitting behind the fire, a frown upon his face as he watched the two women approach. Alicia snapped to attention and saluted. He waited, looking at Shyvana with a dark frown, as if he was waiting for something. Junes glanced over at Shyvana and then leaned in. "You need to salute!" She whispered.

"Oh, uh..." Shyvana looked at how June saluted and then looked at her hand. She straightened up and lifted her hand to her brow, touching it and then holding it.

"At ease." The LT growled, shaking his head as Shyvana dropped the salute and then shifted from foot to foot. "Didn't anyone ever teach you how to salute, boot?"

"I... well, no." Shyvana said, frowning. Vorscham's frown darkened again as he stood up and clasped his hands at the small of his back.

"Name and rank, boot!" He growled, glaring at her. Shyvana looked back at him with defiance blazing in her eyes, but she also knew that making enemies now wouldn't serve her any purpose.

"Shyvana." She said, a frown settling over her face, mirroring the LT displeasure. "I don't have a rank as far as I know." The LT's brow shot up and then a look of recognition seemed to pass over his face.

"What the-... Oh right." Vorscham sneered, shaking his head. Long brown hair bounced around his face, parted along the center, several long strands drifting into his face. He brushed them free of his . "I heard about you. The prince's play thing? The one who tore up the palace veranda. Such a pity all that attention was wasted on the likes of you."

"I dare you to say that again..." Shyvana seethed.

"What you gonna do, boot?" Vorscham said with a cruel grin. "Hit me? Do it and I'll see you busted all the way down to a penal battalion." He glared at her fiercely, fire burning in his golden eyes. "To me, you're nothing but trash right now. Until you earn your place in this unit, you don't get to be anything more than the lowest of the low."

"Lieutenant..." Alicia said, frowning. She looked at Shyvana and then took a half step back when heat began to pour off her body. "Miss Shyvana, uh, lets everybody calm down a little bit." Alicia wore a nervous smile as she tried to placate everyone.

"Stow it, Gunny." Vorscham growled. "If this little chickadee thinks she's got the guts it takes to make it in this unit, I think I might spill them on the floor just to see them for myself. We don't have room for twerps, slackers and people who think they're special, no matter how connected they are." Shyvana bared her teeth at him, her temper still rising.

"How about I rip that rank patch off your fucking shoulder and shove it down your throat?" Shyvana growled.

"Is that a challenge?" A smile slipped onto Vorscham's lips. "Good. Follow me." He turned on his heel and started to limp towards deeper into the barracks, leaving Shyvana with a surprised look on her face.

Alicia stepped in front of Vorscham and held her arms out wide. "Lieutenant, you shouldn't do that, the Major told us not-..."

"I thought I told you to stow it, Gunny?" Vorscham growled as he stopped before Alicia, looking down at the non-commissioned officer. "I don't give a flying fuck what Major Seymour has to say. That paper pushing cunt can tell me how to run my platoon when he gets up off his ass and learns to run his fucking company." He glared molten daggers and watched as Alicia tried to match his intensity, backing away and averting her eyes. Vorscham sigh as he let a moment of weakness pass over his face before his expression hardened impossibly fast and he turned back to the hallways behind him. "Now. Shyvana, follow me."

"Uh..." Shyvana wore a look of shock on her face as she glanced back and forth between Vorscham and Alicia.

"Wipe that off your face, you look stupid." Vorscham growled, looking back at her over his shoulder. "And the correct answer is 'Yes, sir.' not 'uh'." He fit her with a glare that caused Shyvana's throat to go dry.

"Yes sir." She said coldly after a few moments.

"Good." Vorscham nodded, though his frown remained hard. "Follow me. Gunny, go fetch Doc Burton and tell him to meet us in the training yard."

"Yes sir." Alicia said, shaking her head. She tried to give Shyvana a reassuring smile though the sadness remained in her eyes. Shyvana was confused and while she wanted to say something to the woman who had been so kind to her, she didn't want to offer anything up out of fear of Vorscham's reprimand. She fell in behind Vorscham, trying to avoid Alicia's eyes as they disappeared into the hallway that lead into the barracks.

The surface of the training quad had long ago been ground down to nothing but dirt. Grass tried to cling to the rough turf, but much of it had long ago been worn away by boots from sparring and fighting. Tall wooden poles littered the area, some for sword swinging practice, others for exercise, several close together with a metal bar spanning between them. High stone walls surrounded it on all sides, and though there wasn't a massive amount of space, it was well used as men and women moved about the area, sword ringing as men sparred, and the grunt and heavy effort of calisthenics being carried out.

"Welcome to the training field." Lieutenant Vorscham said, gesturing to the area. "Many generations of Demacian Palace Guardsmen have been trained here, and that leave the question I have for you, Chickadee." Vorscham smiled. "Do you think you have what it takes?"

Shyvana frowned at him as he gestured to a large ring with a short wooden wall around the edges. It was in the dead center of the training area, with the Barracks surrounding them on all sides. Windows reached up several stories on all sides, and though there were open hallways along the edges of the quad as soldiers strolled too and fro. Though the area was very open, she couldn't help but feel trapped. She turned back to Vorscham who stood waiting for an answer.

"The blood of my father runs strong in my veins." She said, trying to keep her nerves out of her voice. "But I will see to it personally that the enemies of Demacia will fall. I strive to serve Prince Jarvan to the fullest of my capacity, and you and anyone else will not stand in the way of me and my goals."

"Noble and patriotic." Vorscham said, nodding sagely. He glared at her, his golden eyes glimmering in the sun light. Brown hair fell around his face, almost to his shoulders, and though he did what he could to conceal it, Shyvana could see he walked with a noticeable limp. She could see the very edge of a bad scar along the edge of his face. She met his gaze again and watched as his even glare turned to a frown. "Do you believe that though, do you know what it means to be a true Demacian?"

Shyvana worked her jaw, but stared at the ground. Jarvan had told her she was deserving and showed the Demacian spirit, but he had never told her what that was. She opened her mouth to speak but shut it again, meeting Vorscham's gaze openly. She shook her head slightly and set her jaw, rocking from foot to foot. "I do not know, honestly." Shyvana said, trying to keep the hesitation from showing weakness in her voice. "But I know that this is what I want—what I _must_—do for myself."

"Focused resolve, very good." Vorscham mused, gesturing to the ring. "But are you capable of fighting another Demacian?"

"If I must, I will." Shyvana said after a moment. "If you wish to judge my strength for yourself, then so be it."

"I won't be simply testing your strength, Chickadee." Vorscham said with a grin that sent shivers down Shyvana's spine. "Oh, far from it. This fight will test your resolve, your will, your spirit and your mind. You may have surprised Captain Crownguard with your little trick, but I won't be so easily fooled."

"I don't need my dragon form to defeat the likes of you." Shyvana sniffed, frowning as Vorscham wore a look of mock surprise.

"What big words from such a small girl." Vorscham said, chuckling. "Perhaps you'd like to put your money where your mouth is and show me some of that fight, eh?" Vorscham stepped over the low wall marking off the ring and gestured for her to step in as well. Shyvana looked hesitant, but she followed him, stepping into the ring and watching as soldiers dropped what they were doing, congregating around them and watching with interest. She could hear the chatter from all around her like a cage, rumors already circulating about her. Whispers about the _'beast girl'_, the _'prince's pet'_, the _'monster'_ and the _'gold digger_' flew freely from the mouths of the Demacians who watched, and while Shyvana knew this wouldn't be fun, she could feel how everyone had already put up a barrier, walling her off and segregating her out.

_I'm not another Demacian to them... I'm simply an oddity to watch or to ogle. _

"I'm ready when you are." Shyvana said quietly, letting the world around her fade out, focusing on the challenge that lay before her.

"Draw your weapon." Vorscham ordered as he accepted a lance from another soldier. He lifted the massive bladed weapon, similar to Jarvan's lance and pointed it at Shyvana. She frowned but nodded, pulling the heavy steel gauntlets from beneath her cloak She seated her gauntlets in the palms of her hands and used her teeth to tug the leather straps taut around her wrist. Vorscham glanced at the weapons and then back to her. "You don't want a real weapon?" Vorscham said with a smirk. He spun the lance above his head in a showy flourish, before planting the blade into the dirt in front of him.

"I don't need a weapon to deal with the likes of you." Shyvana growled.

"Bring it on, Chickadee." Vorscham said with a snort.

"What's with that name, anyways?" Shyvana said with a frown as she settled into a fighting stance. She held both gauntlets in front of her face in what was approximately a boxing stance.

"It's a simple winter birdy that's known for using existing nests for itself... just like you." His face turned dark. "Sucking up to prince like that..." He snorted, grinning cruelly. "I bet that's not all you sucked, too."

"I'm going to make you regret those words." Shyvana growled as color flooded her cheeks.

"Make me regret them." Vorscham said with a wicked grin as he held his lance in front of his body, keeping Shyvana at distance as he began to pace. Though his steps were uneven, the limp was almost completely gone as he crept about, crab stepping. Shyvana began to match his pacing in the opposite direction, not letting him steer her backwards into a corner where his long reach would have her pinned against the corner. "Show me the power you so brazenly flaunt." Shyvana snarled, letting her long, pointed fangs show, and she watched with satisfaction as some of the men took a surprised step backwards. She looked back to Vorscham, expecting a similar reaction, but he only watched her with a bit of amusement and an even glare.

Alicia approached with a man with gray hair and a bushy silver shot black beard in tow, running the last few meters as she approached, leaning heavily on the railing and frowning. She bit back a shout of protest, leaning back to stand squarely on her feet. "Sarge, I really think this is a bad idea..."

"I won't hurt him too much, June..." Shyvana said, starting to pace in towards him.

"I'm not worried about him, I'm worried about you!" Alicia said, her face almost manic.

Shyvana glared at the woman and watched as Alicia shrank back, fear in her eyes. Shyvana growled in disgust, turning all of her attention back to Vorscham. She closed the gap slowly, waiting for an explosive thrust to come from him, but he merely shifted stances, bringing his lance up in a defensive pose Shyvana had never seen. He held the long barrel of the lance up and over his shoulder, one arm back for leverage and one arm forward for strength, the blade descending towards the ground at a shallow angle.

_He can only swing so far to the right with his arms like that. _ Shyvana started to move forward. _A blow to the blade will easily rip his lance from his grasp!_

Shyvana charged in at Vorscham, flames cloaking her legs as she took off with a rapid burst of speed. She watched his face with pleasure as a moment of surprise flashed through his eyes as she closed the gap rapidly. She brought one of the steel gauntlets up and started to slap the lance aside. Sparks showered the ground as the length of the lance streaked across the dragon's head gauntlet with a scream of tearing metal. Shyvana watched his arm get stretched over his chest and while she expected worry or despair from his expression, he still simply looked at her without anything but the slightest hint of amusement.

Shyvana felt the lance get pushed back at her, the strength he was able to exert on it enough to send her toppling to the ground. She tucked and tried to roll to safety but she felt the heavy crack of the butt of his lance striking her right leg. She clenched her teeth as she finally ended up face down on the ground, grasping her leg in pain. She pushed her self up and pulled herself to her feet, pain contorting her face as her leg nearly fell out from under her.

"Your ingenuity is commendable." Vorscham said, settling into his defensive stance again. "You analyzed my defensive stance and went in for the proper blow, however you underestimated me and you paid for that. You let me deceive you with my appearance and you thought yourself stronger than me." He started to pace around her, looking for an opening this time. "You can't let yourself be deceived like that or you'll pay with your life, not just a charlie horse." Shyvana tried to match him, but she staggered when she tried to take a step, limping heavily, almost having to drag her leg along the ground. "Besides you make up for a lack of fighting prowess with raw aggression. You risk your life to end the battle quickly."

"So what if I do?" Shyvana snarled, trying to keep the pain from her face as she limped about, struggling to keep him from herding her towards the wall again.

"You're only going to hurt yourself like that." Vorscham said, pushing forward. He started to thrust in towards her, but Shyvana snarled and grappled the end of his lance when he went into to jab at her. Shyvana heaved the lance to the side, drawing him in closer. She wore a mask of anger and snarled to hide the scream as she launched herself forward, her leg threatening to roll and collapse. She threw a fire cloaked fist, letting it fly towards Vorscham's face. Vorscham ducked his shoulder and brought his head forward, letting the blow ride up his shoulder armor. He slammed her chest with his shoulder with a hollow thud and then brought his lance up in a single motion. As Shyvana started to topple backwards, he brought the lance up and back over his shoulder in a circular motion, sweeping up and across his body, catching Shyvana in the arm. The steel plate on her shoulder cracked and blood began to pour from a deep gasp that ran from the crook of her arm up to her collar bone. The tip swiped her brow as blood poured down across her face. Shyvana spun with the force of the blow and then hit the ground, much harder this time, her shattered shoulder pauldron bouncing across the ground and clattering to a halt.

"That's enough Lieutenant." Alicia stepped into the ring and in front of Shyvana, her arms outstretched as Vorscham stepped forward. "She's down for the count." Alicia gasped and looked over her shoulder as Shyvana grasped the hem of her cloak, starting to haul herself up.

"Not... yet..." Shyvana gasped for breath as she pushed herself up to her feet. Blood poured freely from her shoulder and she tried to wipe the blood from her face. She stood stood crookedly, swaying from side to side as her chest heaved with effort and blood dripped to the ground in a puddle beneath her.

Alicia took a half step away and looked back to Shyvana, surprise clear on her face. "But miss Shy-..."

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Shyvana roared, golden flames sparkling in her eyes and dancing along the ground as she settled into a fighting stance.

"But I..." Alicia stammered, taking another step away from Shyvana.

"You think I want your pity just because I'm different?" Shyvana said with a little less venom in her voice. "Because I'm some sort of freak?"

"No... I..." Alicia said, tears now welling in her eyes. "I just..."

"I don't care! Think anything you want, I'm used to it!" Shyvana snarled at Alicia and then pushed past her, smearing the woman's chest plate with blood from her arm. "I refuse to lose! I REFUSE!" Flames boiled around her, heat pouring off of her body.

"_She's a monster..." "Demon..." "Freak..."_ Shyvana heard the murmurs in the crowd but she didn't care, Her sights were firmly set on Vorscham now.

"I have long learned to feel no remorse towards the death of humans..." Shyvana growled. "You view me as nothing more than the dirt on which you step. My entire life I have lived in fear of humans and dragons alike, as I am neither one nor the other. If you think you're going to deny me my place here..." Shyvana was growing paler, as blood still poured from her shoulder. "I will ensure you get a glimpse into the belly of the beast."

"You're so weak now it wouldn't even be a challenge to put you down." Vorscham said, shaking his head. "You've got guts and strength, I'll give you that. If you keep this up though, I'll have to spill them all over the floor, and then we'd have to clean them up. What a pity, little chickadee." Vorscham shrugged. "I'd feel bad for doing that to the prince's play thing-ah-... pardon, his supposed new _personal_ _guard._... but you can't even beat one lowly lieutenant." Disgust flooded his voice. "If you can't even take care of yourself, how the hell do you think you're going to protect him?"

"I will end you!" Shyvana practically screamed as she pushed herself forwards, racing towards Vorscham leaving a trail of blood in her wake. He looked at her with pity in his eyes as he stepped into her charge and to the side. He brought his arm up and then brought his elbow down on the back of her neck, hard.

Shyvana hit the ground and slid to a halt in a heap.

"Lieutenant?" June slid forward and dropped to Shyvana's side, a worried look on her face.

"She's alive." Vorscham growled, shaking his head. "Just knocked out before she could do any more damage to herself." He worked his wrist about as the men around the open training area simply watched in shock, many of them repeatedly glancing back and forth between Vorscham and the injured woman who lay upon the ground.

"Sir?" June, stared up at him with tears welling in her eyes.

"Doc Burton, get her patched up and then get her fed. Alicia, have her assigned to a berth and get her fully geared up." Vorscham turned.

"Uh, yes sir." Doc Burton said with a frown, turning a waving a couple of soldiers forward to help him with a stretcher. He started to move into the ring but Alicia stomped her foot and clenched her fists, her body quivering in anger.

"What was the point of this!?" Alicia practically screamed, "Why... why would you do something so horrid to her..."

"She needed to learn a lesson." Vorscham said quietly, looking back over his shoulder. "This isn't somewhere she can simply beat her way through life. She needs to learn to control herself; her emotions, her actions, her fighting, everything. She's extremely strong, but she's reckless and wild. Before she can become a Demacian Guardsman, she must become a Demacian."

"Then what purpose did it serve to alienate her like this?" Alicia said, waving at the medical team who carried a stretched between them, assisting Doc Burton. "This wasn't training, Proudmast, this was abuse, pure and simple."

"She learned that she isn't invincible today." Vorscham said with a growl. "And don't call me by my first name." He ran a hand through his hair, revealing a massive scar that covered half of his face, the majority of his ear completely sheered away. "Sometimes... sometimes you have to break a man before you can build a soldier. I had hopes that she would be different because Valin seemed to trust her so intimately, but I guess she's just like the rest."

"Wait, Isaacs trusted him? How do you know that?" Surprise was clear on Alicia's face, as the anger drained from her face and voice.

"I talked to Colonel Jerome about the scouting reports that his men reported to the king." Vorscham handed the lance off to a soldier as he limped towards the wall, easing down and grimacing in pain. "She and Isaacs were pretty close until he died." Vorscham glared at the ground, as Alicia shook her head and looked back at Vorscham, frowning.

"Isaacs would have never treated someone like this, and you know that!" Alicia said, watching as Shyvana got carried away by the medics. She wore a look of concern on her face as the medics disappeared inside the barracks, Doc Burton following them inside.

"Yeah, well, I'm not Valin Isaacs. I'm not a saint. I can't do what he did." Vorscham stared at the ground, his face hardening into a grief stricken mask. He turned away, lifting his legs over the low wall and then pushed himself to his feet. He took a deep breath, letting his back face Alicia as he ran a hand over his head. "This is the only way I know how, June."

"Proudmast..." Alicia said, softly. She started to realize that while he may have come off as a complete jerk and a bastard, he really did have the best of intentions.

"I thought I told you not to call me that." He looked up and then turned to the soldiers who were still milling about. Many of them had probably come to watch Vorscham get his ass kicked, but they stood in awe now, having watched the Lieutenant easily take down the beast that had felled the Might of Demacia. "Get back to your work, soldiers!" He shouted angrily. "You've got your duties, now get them done or we'll spend all of tomorrow running laps around the city walls!" Men scampered left and right, scattering like chickens with their heads cut off. When everyone had left, Vorscham paused, looking back at the rapidly drying blood on the in the dirt arena. "Hey Juniper..."

"Sir?" Alicia said, looking back to him. He still stood facing away from her.

"Do me a favor and don't tell Shyvana that Isaacs and I used to go way back, alright?" Vorscham's shoulders sunk as he kneeled down with some effort, pressing his fingers into a sticky patch of splattered red blood. "I want her to hate me while she trains. If she's angry at me and she wants to beat the crap out of me she'll work harder and strive to do so. It'll keep her mind in the right place."

"I..." Alicia sighed as her face softened and she nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. "Yes sir."

"Thanks, June." Vorscham said, nodding. "Make sure she gets cleaned up and bandaged properly. Jarvan would kick my ass if he knew what I was doing." Vorscham said, chuckling softly.

"Another secret you want kept from her for now?" June said, smiling.

"Yeah..." Vorscham looked down at the ground and shook his head. "This less she knows about me, the less she'll feel sorry for me."

"Yes sir." Alicia said, saluting. She spun and then jogged off to catch up with the medics, leaving Vorscham alone on the bare patch of dirt that he had trained on himself, years ago. Vorscham pushed himself to his feet and shook his head, wiping the blood from his fingers onto his trousers.

_Better get this cleaned up and back to work before the Major gets back._

Shyvana groaned as she rolled over and tried to sit up, her head swimming. She ran and hand over her face, sweat dripping down her nose and locks of red hair pasted to her face. She started to wipe them free of her face but she winced, falling back onto the bed when her shoulder screamed in pain.

"Careful now, you're still injured." A soft female voice said, gently pushing her back onto the bed. "You shouldn't try to use your arm for now. Doc Burton says it needs to heal. Besides, till we can drop your fever you need to stay in bed."

Shyvana felt something cool brush over her forehead as the warm embrace of a thick blanket and a plush pillow swallowed her up. "Wha-... Quinn?" Shyvana looked for the tracker and medic who had saved her and Jarvan several times, hoping to see a familiar face, but the icy white hair and warm red eyes of Juniper faded into view. She smiled warmly at Shyvana, dipping a soft cloth into a basin of water and then wrung it out, handing it to Shyvana.

"Here, you can wipe your face." June sat back on the chair next to Shyvana's bed as Shyvana accepted the cloth with her good arm and then struggled to sit up. Her weak arm flailed for a moment, held back by a sling and bandages covering her left shoulder. Shyvana grunted as she wormed her way into a rough sitting position before she hung her head, breathing a bit deeper than she should have with the effort she had just exerted.

"June? Where am I?" Shyvana said, looking around the room at the small quarters. They were furnished well, with a small dresser, tall bookshelf, a desk with a chair that Alicia was sitting on, a wardrobe and then the bed Shyvana lay on. There was also a small bed-side table that the basin sat on, a lamp perched on the corner. Shyvana ran the cloth over her face and then her neck, a bit of red blotting the cloth as she pulled it away. She ran her fingers over her brow and felt soft bandages had been wrapped around her head. She groaned a bit, trying to blink away the wooziness she still felt.

"This is your assigned dormitory." Alicia said, standing up. She set her hands on the wardrobe, pulling it open and gesturing to the inside of the drawers. "I went ahead and sized you up and appropriated you a full set of fatigues, a dress uniform, and various other things you'll need." She paused a moment thinking. "You'll need to get your dress uniform tailored to fit, but all in due time. Oh, and we'll get you fitted for armor as well, but for now you can use the training armor we have available."

"Oh... uh, okay." Shyvana said, looking down at her hands as she gripped the edge of the blanket.

"We gave you an officers quarters because that's all we had, so I hope you don't mind being in your own room." Alicia said, smiling. Shyvana looked up at her and then shrugged, still staring down at her hands. "Give me a holler if you need anything, I'm just next door."

"Thanks." Shyvana said quietly.

"Of course." Alicia said, still smiling happily. She turned to leave.

"Um..." Shyvana said softly, her face hidden by her long red locks.

"Hmm?" June paused in the doorway, looking back at the young woman, her arm in a sling, bandages wrapped over her shoulder and around her head.

"I... June, uh..." Shyvana shook her head, still staring at the blanket. She glanced up at the icy haired officer. "I wanted to apologize for what I said before. I didn't really mean it. I was just..."

"It's fine." Alicia wandered back into the room and settled down onto the chair, crossing her legs and crossing her arms over her chest. "We all get carried away sometimes and say things we don't mean." She shrugged and looked back at Shyvana. "And while Vorscham may be an ass, he means well. He just doesn't really know any better. He gets his hardheadedness from a friend of his back during his academy days. He never really grew out of his bad habits either, he still uses fights as the basis for every lesson ever." She shrugged and sighed, chuckling softly.

"I.. I figured he was goading me on." Shyvana said clenching her fists. "I just... I..."

"You've never had anyone stand up to you like that before, right?" Alicia said with a grin.

"I got defeated like that once before." Shyvana said, a smile playing over her face. "My father had just been killed and I was distraught, lashing out blindly. He found me like that and took pity on me. He took all of his armor off and then took me down like he was simply putting on a training exercise."

"He took his armor off before he took you down?" Alicia said, raising an eyebrow. "Takes guts to do something like that I bet."

"Yeah well, Prince Jarvan is about as hardheaded as they come." Shyvana said, laughing softly. She shook her head and then sighed after a moment. She looked back to Alicia who smiled sweetly at her and then Shyvana blushed and then glanced down at the bed. "Oh I didn't mean to get sentimental on you June, I just... I haven't seen him in a few days and I'm feeling kinda lonely."

"It's fine." Alicia said, shaking her head, wiping the surprised look of off her face. "I had forgotten that you two were an, er, well an item."

"Well, its not really..." Shyvana frowned, shaking her head. "I mean..." She blushed furiously and then glared down at the blanket again, wrenching it about viciously as she poked at the blanket, drawing circles on the fabric as waves of heat rose off of the top of her head. "I suppose we..."

"I mean, you've done it, right?" Alicia said, grinning slyly. Shyvana looked up at her, her mouth hanging open. "Bagged the prince eh, that's hot." Shyvana's face turned beet red as she ripped the sheet almost in two, steam now pouring from her ears.

"I-I-I-I..." Shyvana stammered. "I... But I..."

"I won't judge you for it." Alicia said, laughing at Shyvana's embarrassment. "Just get better so we can get back to training." She stood up and slid the chair back under the desk. "Reveille is tomorrow at six and PT is at six-fifteen. After that you've got time to bathe and clean yourself up for mess at seven-thirty. Martial exercises follow, starting at eight until lunch at twelve-thirty. Classes in the afternoon starting at one and until you're released. You have that time until dinner at six to yourself, as well as the rest of the evening for studying or practicing your martial skills. Easy enough, right?"

"Studying?" Shyvana said, blinking. "Studying what?"

"History, Demacian education and weapons theory among other things." Alicia shrugged, leaning against the door frame. "It changes from person to person though. For you, it might concern target protection, advanced combat tactics, I can't really say."

"I see." Shyvana said sighing.

"Just rest up." Alicia chuckled. "You'll be busy starting tomorrow. Better heal up while you can, I doubt Vorscham will give you a break because of that arm."

"Oh this?" Shyvana said, raising her arm out of the sling.

"Easy now..." Alicia said, stepping forward. "Weren't you still in pain?"

"It's a bit sore, yeah." Shyvana said, carefully working her arm around. She struggled to unclip the bandages but finally managed to get it unclasped. She unwrapped it and showed the long pink scar that ran along her shoulder to Alicia. She unwrapped her head as well, gently running her face over the small gap in her brow where a pink scar still marred her face. "I've always healed pretty quickly though, The gash was long but it wasn't too deep." Shyvana paused shrugging with some effort. She gently touched her brow and winced a bit as she did. "It might be a day or two till I'm back to full strength, but it's workable."

"That's amazing..." Alicia said breathlessly, looking at the scars. "And the fever?"

"Oh, well... I don't think I had one." Shyvana said, frowning. She held a hand to her forehead. "Nope, not a bit."

"But... you were burning up..." June said, blinking lamely.

"Oh well, my body temperature is higher than normal." Shyvana said, pulling her feet from the bed and standing up. "I mean... I'm not human. Not fully at least."

"I... I guess so." Alicia shook her head, smiling. "I know we kinda got off to a rough start but how about it, friends?" She held out her hand, taking Shyvana by surprise.

"I..." Shyvana frowned, looking down at her own hand but nodded, smiling. "Sure." She took Alicia's hand and shook it once. "Now, where can I get something to eat." Shyvana said, pulling a pair of pants from the drawer and sliding them on. She tugged on fatigue tunic as well, matching what June was wearing. "I'm starved."

Alicia laughed heartily, shaking her head. "Come on," She said, waving Shyvana towards the door. "I'll see if I can't scrounge something for you to eat."


	8. Chapter 7: Subordinates

"So what ever happened to that administrative assistant we were supposed to get?" Delancey kicked back in her chair, groaning as she stretched her arms above her head. "All these tomes and the endless stacks of files are starting to get on my nerves."

"What'd I tell you, Delancey?" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow as he lowered the file he was reading to the large meeting table in front of him.

"I'm not complaining sir." Delancey said with a surprisingly cheerful grin. "I just want some more help." She shrugged and brushed blue locks of hair from her face. "Someone who actually knows what they're doing with all this paperwork. Someone who has a remote clue about all these papers_."_

"I have to agree sir." Lee said warily, scrubbing his hands over his face as he slumped back in his chair. He slammed the lid of the tome he had been browsing and dropped it into a pile next to his seat that was easily as tall as the table. "All of these tomes and files have almost nothing to do with Swain. It's as if they sent us the entirety of the recorded history of Noxus." He paused and looked across the room where large boxes of tomes and paper files were stacked half way to the ceiling. "I'm pretty sure they did send up the entire recorded history of Noxian Demacian relations."

"I believe the archive officer said it was only the last seventy years to be exact." Delancey chirped, drawing dirty glares from both Lee and Jarvan. She gave them a glowing smile, and Lee simply shook his head and pulled another tome from the stack he was slowly working through.

"I'd help but I'm currently having to brush up on the history of Kalamanda and geology of all things." Jarvan said, the frustration seeping into his voice as he held up a geology book and pulled out a report regarding Kalamanda's recent mineral discoveries. He glanced at the cover of the report and sighed heavily.

"Just think though, sir." Delancey said smiling. "It may be a bit _rocky_ now, but once you've got the gist of it, It'll be easy." She looked like she was struggling to keep herself from laughing.

"You're so chipper it's almost sickening." Jarvan groaned, watching as her smile grew wider.

"I've got some more geology jokes if you want, sir." Delancey said putting a finger to her chin as if she was thinking about something really hard. "Just give me a minute, I'll dig some up." That got a groan from Lee. "I mean, it's your fault our duty eroded to this, right?" She wore a big goofy grin as if she expected everyone to burst out laughing. Jarvan set the paper he was reading down in front of him, laced his fingers together in front of him and looked up at Delancey who still wore a massive, cheesy grin on her face.

"Delancey, I will have you hung up on the flag pole in the courtyard by your toes and let you see if you can wisecrack yourself down if you'd like to keep this up." Jarvan said evenly. She only grinned wider.

"Aww, you're making me blush." She teased, batting her eyes and glancing away in a mockingly coy manner. Lee snorted a bit of laughter and Jarvan couldn't help but smile.

"Enough joking though, we need to get through this before tomorrow." Jarvan said, shaking his head and sighing.

"Yes sir." Delancey said, a bit deflated, but the smile remaining on her face as she pulled a new tome from her pile and cracked it open.

Jarvan's smile quickly died as he dug through a thick stack of file folders, pieces of parchment sticking out at every angle, drawings and scraps of parchment strewn about everywhere. He finally found what he was looking for in the form of his report regarding the final two months of his excursion beyond the rift and his return there after. He flipped through the pages of parchment, his scrawling black handwriting lining page after page. He paused on page seven, and started reading. ..._and when confronted, the dragon confessed he had been coerced into harassing Noxus. His actions were delayed by the immense injuries inflicted by myself and my companions, delaying the attack long enough for us to hunt him down. It was in this last confrontation that Valin Isaacs, my lieutenant, fell. He is buried in an unmarked grave in the Noxian wilderness just south of the Ironspike Mountains, but should be treated with full military honors..._ Jarvan felt a heavy weight on his back as he read his words, pausing to take a deep breath and clear his mind. The report detailed the deaths of all of his men, even those who hadn't died at the very end of the two year journey the report was supposed to cover.

_Argyle, Reynolds, Vanneth, Halcyon, Marntin, Jean, Tron, Orion, Laryn and Shore and Valin Isaacs... _The weight on Jarvan's shoulder seemed to grown infinitely heavier as the memories of the men and women of Exemplar company seemed to wash over him like a lead wave. _There are only two survivors of the original Exemplar company now. Forsythe and myself. The only unit I've ever commanded has a ninety-nine percent mortality rate. I'm not a commander, I'm a butcher. I led my men to the slaughter. _Jarvan closed his eyes and sat back heavily, trying to let his guilty conscious ebb a bit, though the wound had surfaced again, as it did sometimes. Jarvan had returned home and received a hero's welcome, and though he loved his country, he sometimes felt as if he didn't belong amid the fanfare. Most of his friends had never returned to Demacia, and the only solace Jarvan could find at times was amid the empty graves that were awarded so-called heroes who died in battle.

_War is a cruel existence, but for me, this peace is almost worse. _Jarvan slumped just a bit lower in his chair breathing deeply. Lonely nights and long days dealing with politicians and soldiers he didn't know were starting to wear on him and Jarvan could feel it. _If this keeps up much longer, I think I might go crazy. I miss the open sky and the freedom of Valoran right now. _Jarvan frowned a bit and clenched his fists, a pang of fear at having to sleep alone striking deep in his heart. _I don't know if I can take too many more nights alone..._

"Sir?" Jarvan opened his eyes to black breakers on a sea of tan parchment. He massaged his eyes for a moment and sat up, tearing his eyes from the messy black handwriting that and looked up to see Delancey standing in the doorway that led into the small common area of Jarvan's suite of rooms. She wore a worried look and the hesitation told Jarvan that his subordinate was worried about him. "Miss Halsington has brought us some coffee and sandwiches." Jarvan blinked a few times and then rubbed his eyes, glancing to the clock that was high above his desk. He groaned and nodded.

"Tell Noel to bring them on in." Jarvan shook his head, trying to banish the weariness he felt. It had taken him a few moments to connect Noel's first and last name together. He had always known Noel Halsington as simply 'Noel' ever since he had been a young boy. "I hadn't even realized it had gotten so late in the day." He pushed himself up to his feet and stretched his back, yawning. After working through the entirety of the day before on brushing up on his knowledge about Kalamanda, Jarvan had worked through the morning with Councilor Crownguard and his staff as they had tried to sort through what exactly Swain had been involved in in his history with Noxus. During that meeting the archive officer that Delancey had talked to before apparently realized he had forgotten to send the second half of the record on Kalamanda. Jarvan had been working through today trying to finish up and the time had escaped him.

"So we still have a huge number of reports to sort through despite all of our work yesterday. What exactly happened in the meeting this morning?" Lee asked as he sat up a bit straighter in his chair. Jarvan glanced over at the olive complected officer, his short black hair ruffled against his mounting frustrations with all of the paperwork.

"While the councilor's staff had managed to identify several hundred actions and operations that Swain _could_ have had a hand in or was connected to, they had defaulted to me to decide what exactly Swain was involved in." Jarvan sighed, letting his shoulders sink heavily. "I'll be honest, everyone considers Swain to be my arch-nemesis as if we're constantly hunting each out and trying to take each other out over and over. Swain tried to kill me twice because I'm the heir to the Demacian throne... I don't know anything about him other than what reports have to say and what we know through rumor and hearsay."

"Sounds like no better time or reason to familiarize yourself then." Lee said, shrugging.

"Perhaps, but what exactly am I going to use short of talking to a Nox-..." Jarvan paused, a thoughtful frown on his face before he shook his head. "Anyways, the councilor had apparently expected me to be some sort of all seeing oracle. While I've had my few run ins with him, Swain is the tactical genius, not me. He out maneuvered me and killed my entire company off as if it were nothing but a milk run." Jarvan said through gritted teeth as he leaned on the back of his chair. The plush blue chair creaked a bit as Jarvan rested more weight on it, but it settled quickly. Jarvan shrugged. "I took my report of my actions with me, but he didn't seem interested in anything but the parts with Swain. He wants me to write up an actual analysis of Swain's martial tactics from my point of view for his people to analyze. He also wanted me to sort through all of these reports to determine the ones most likely to have been perpetrated by Swain. Which leads us to where we are now."

"More paperwork, sir?" Lee let the flickering of a smile pass over his normally placid face. Jarvan shook his head in exasperation and let his head hang as he sighed deeply.

"Yeah, more bloody paperwork to sort through." Jarvan groaned. "I swear to god, if I have to look though and more file folders I might just drown myself in this sea of paper."

"I hear you, sir." Lee said, looking back at the stack of tomes he had beside him, one of each side. "Perhaps taking a break from the Kalamanda reports will break the monotony?" He gestured to the stack of books that were sitting off to the side of the table that Jarvan and his staff hadn't even touched yet.

"Yeah, maybe." Jarvan said tiredly. He watched as Lee picked a tome off of the shorter pile next to him and cracked it open in front of him, dipping back into his readings. _He has no trouble simply tuning out the rest of the world when he has work to do._ Jarvan watched Lee for a moment to see if the soldier would show any further signs of frustration, but the man's eyes simply danced over page after page of written word. _I suppose that's a mage for you, they're as much at home amid the tomes as they are on the battlefield._

"This way, ladies, the Prince is just through here." Delancey's voice carried through the outer room, and though Jarvan could hear the trundling of a cart being pushed, he could also pick out three sets of clicking of heals. He could separate the subtle clank of Delancey's armored grieves on the carpeted stone, but there were also two pairs of clicking heels striking the stone as they passed from rug to rug.

_Who could that be, it's not just Noel..._ Jarvan frowned as he stood up and straightened out his tunic, realizing just how out of place he felt without his armor. _I hate this soft warfare—politics. It is no place for me._ He shifted uncomfortably as the feet approached.

Delancey came first, sweeping in the door and opening the second of the double doors to allow for the cart that Noel pushed to roll into the room. The tall maid had her usual uniform swaying around her, her clear blue eyes standing out against her pale skin, raven hair, and white and black uniform. She pushed a cart stacked with sandwiches, pastries, and a massive coffee pot poured steam at the very top. Behind her followed a petite young woman with wavy brown hair and emerald green eyes that sparkled in the dim light of the room. Jarvan felt something unsettling in his stomach as he looked at the woman, ice settling in his stomach as he met the fair skinned young woman's gaze.

_She looks just like..._ Jarvan stood up just a bit straighter and looked down at the short young lass. _It couldn't be..._

"Captain Lightshield, this is your new administrative assistant." Noel said, gesturing to the woman. "I found her wandering around the halls looking for your study." Noel wore a faint smile that spoke of her memories of having done the same for Jarvan many times before.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." The young woman said, bowing rather than saluting. "My name is Private-..."

"Valentine Isaacs." Jarvan said softly, the disbelief crossing over his face as he finished her sentence for her.

"I'm glad you remember me, sir." The woman said, blushing, a smile spreading over her face. Jarvan shook his head and let a sad smile cross his face. "It's been a long time since I last met you."

"You probably weren't much taller than my waist at that point though." Jarvan wore a crooked grin as he shook his head. "Has it really been so long?" She nodded. "You've grown up quite a bit; you're how old now, seventeen, eighteen?"

She blushed and smiled. "I'm flattered you remember. Eighteen as of last month. I was only seven or eight at the time when you visited with my father and brother, so many years ago."

"To think it's been ten years." Jarvan said, a sad look falling over his face as silence befell the room. "I meant to come and visit to give you my regards about your father and your brother. I was close to Isaacs and Shore. Ah, I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

"It's fine, sir." She said, her shoulders sinking as if a massive weight had slowly begun to descend upon her. The sparkle in her eyes seemed to dull, and she stared down at the ground, her hands clasped together in front of her. "I didn't really know my father all that well, and Shore was so many years older than I was. I remember them both from when I was little, but they were only home a few days a month for the few years leading up to their disappearance." She worked her hands nervously. "I remember Shore a little better because he would watch after me when mother and father would fight when we were little, but even then, he seems like such a distant memory now."

"I..." Jarvan's voice faded away as he sank down into his chair. _Isaacs had been like a second father to me, did he really neglect his own daughter? And fighting with his wife, they divorced peaceably... I thought._

"My parents separated shortly after I was born." She said, wringing her hands as she saw the confusion wash over Jarvan's face. "I mailed my father now and then, but a little over two years ago his letters became infrequent. My mother said he had gone away to do something important, but she never told me exactly what. I would receive letters from him occasionally, post marked from all over Valoran. He described beautiful places and tales of great creatures, but I don't know if my letters ever reached him when I wrote back. He always mentioned _the prince_, and when you returned without him, I feared for the worst." She wrung her hands in front of her, still staring at the ground. "When I had come of age last year, I enlisted to serve my three years of mandatory service in hopes of learning what had happened to him. I suppose I will never know, now."

"Valentine, your father and brother accompanied on a journey across Valoran. They died in battle with a dragon that nearly killed me as well.. and robbed me of all but one of my men." Jarvan gripped the arms of his chair, his hands shaking with a mix of rage and grief. "If you want to be angry as someone, you can be angry at me. I know I am whenever I remember your father and brother, they were good men. I asked them both to accompany me and it was the reason they ended up losing their lives. I am sorry." Jarvan closed his eyes shut and let his head fall forward. "I am truly, truly sorry."

Jarvan braced himself for the words of anger and hatred, but seconds passed without any words of reprisal. He felt soft warm hands press against his hand. He let his iron grip slacken on the arm of the chair as he opened his eyes. Valentine wore a sad smile as she pulled his hand into her own and opened his palm, spreading it and running her fingers along the inside of Jarvan's palm.

"You have rough hands." She said softly. She wore a sad but fond look on her face. "But they're strong... kind of how I imagine my father's hands to be."

"No, his hands were softer than mine." Jarvan said, shaking his head with a crooked grin. "He was caring and kind, always looking out for the men, be it with a dirty joke or a knock on the head." Jarvan chuckled, sinking in his seat a bit. "He was a great man, much better than I."

Valentine laughed, the sound like tinkling bone china. "My mom always said he was too busy with trying to raise the entire army to take care of her and I..." Her face fell as her voice trailed off, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"I suppose that was his greatest fault." Jarvan said softly. "The old bastard cared too much about all of his men. If you ever need anything, please, don't be afraid to ask me. I owe him a greater debt than I could ever repay." Jarvan smiled warmly at her. Jarvan offered her a silken handkerchief from the pocket inside the lapel of his uniform tunic.

"Could you tell me about him?" Valentine said, wiping away the tears with the handkerchief, blushing slightly. "Mother doesn't talk about him much."

"Sure." Jarvan said, chuckling.

Lee cleared his throat as he lifted a cup of coffee to his lips and continuing to look down at the tome he was browsing. Jarvan blinked a few times and then looked at Delancey, who wore a grin as she leaned on the back of her chair, munching on a half of a sandwich. Noel silently poured coffee for Jarvan, and slid a sandwich onto a plate for him, setting them both on the table next to him.

"Sorry." Jarvan said, shaking his head with an embarrassed grin. "I suppose it will have to wait for now. We're on a bit of a deadline so I'm going to have to ask you to jump right in."

"That's fine." Valentine smiled. "I requested this post for a reason. I'll do whatever you need of me, sir."

"Oh?" Jarvan said as he shuffled through a stack of papers, finally pulling out the report of his most recent actions, concerning Isaacs death and Shyvana. He quickly rearranged it into it's proper order and hesitated before handing it over to Valentine.

"Yes sir." She said nodding. "I saw your name come up through personnel and I put in for a transfer. It took a day to go through, but I was allowed to transfer out of the Demacian Command Office to your command."

"I see." Jarvan said, nodding. Lee glanced up from his readings at Jarvan who glanced away and sighed. "I'm going to need at least two additional copies of this report." He tapped the report several times and then looked back to the youngest Isaacs. "Read this. It's a bit graphic in places, but it'll at least tell you how he died.

"Yes, sir." Her fingers trembled as she accepted the report from Jarvan and glanced over it briefly. Jarvan watched, waiting for a reaction as she browsed the contents. She flipped through the report briefly and then her mouth opened as she blinked a few times. She closed the report. "I'll get right on it." Jarvan nodded as he gestured to a section of the desk that was mostly clear of the mess of books and papers. He picked up a file folder and started flipping through it and then frowned.

"I'm sorry we don't have more time for introductions, but we're pressed for time. There are quills and ink in the side desk, as well as parchment and anything else you may need. In the mean time, I have to sort through and familiarize myself with information for contingency plans based on history that apparently doesn't exist!" Jarvan frowned as he slammed the remnants of the stack of reports onto the table, sending papers flying around the room. "It's as if Swain didn't exist once upon a time. He's a virtual ghost up until he just pops up as a major in charge of a company of infantry. That doesn't just happen."

"We've still got quite a few records to go through, sir." Lee said before popping the corner of his sandwich into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully and then washing it down with a sip of coffee. "It's entirely possible that we simply have not stumbled across the actual records we need yet." He tapped a painfully short stack of file folders and pushed them towards Jarvan. These are a few that I've found that actually have details that match his or mention him by name." He then tapped another pile that was only slightly taller. He frowned, letting a mix of confusion and anger mar his face. "These may have been his responsibility as well but the unit details of those involved don't match up with existing Noxian naming and designation parameters. It doesn't make any sense, as if someone has gone through and messed with all of the records." Jarvan could see the frustration mounting in his face as he opened a second report and held them next to each other, his eyes bouncing back and forth between the two reports.

"What, you think someone tampered with the Demacian Archives?" Delancey said, looking up from a tome. "That's not possible"

"It's possible, but only high level military officials and staff within the archives actually have access to said records." He glowered, thinking. "Even then, detailed records are kept regarding anyone who accesses them. Prince Jarvan, I'm starting to get worried. What exactly is going on here?"

Jarvan hesitated, a frown crossing his face. _If someone really did edit the records, who can I trust? Katarina did say to trust no one... _He pinched the bridge of his nose. _Can I even trust her?_

"What does it matter, Lee?" Delancey said with a shrug. She sighed before turning back to Jarvan. "But I have to agree, sir. This is pretty damn weird."

"I know, I know..." Jarvan growled, shaking his long black hair out. "Someone might be working against us from the shadows, and even now I feel as though I'm only getting bogged down in paperwork to keep me busy while they dance around me laughing. This is just frustrating." Jarvan tossed a report onto the table and sent papers flying everywhere. The file folder itself crashed into his cup of coffee, spilling it over the table, and then it rolled off the edge and crashed to the ground. "Oh great..." He muttered, shaking his head. "Just fucking great."

"I have it, sire." Noel said softly, kneeling down and pulling a towel from her cart and beginning to wipe up the spilled coffee and shards of china.

"I understand you're frustrated, sir." Lee said tightly as he picked up a sheet of paper, dripping black with coffee and smeared ink. He sighed and shook his head, picking up a few tomes before the creeping trail of coffee had a chance to reach them. "Irreplaceable records now ruined. Fabulous." Lee growled, shaking his head. He turned to Jarvan and fit the prince with a molten glare. "Sometimes you simply need to deal with it, _sir_. You're a prince and a representative of the Demacian Government now. You have responsibilities you must attend to despite how it may seem."

"You're out of line, Lee." Delancey growled, a frown forming on her face.

"Am I?" Lee snapped back. "Am I really? Mages learn about responsibility early on when they're studying in the Academy. There are certain things you have to sacrifice when you have so much responsibility on your shoulders. The prince wouldn't be here now if he didn't understand that."

"You should learn your place!" Delancey snapped back.

"Why?" Lee growled. "Just because I'm not an indoctrinated sheep like you academy knuckledraggers doesn't mean I'm not above understanding a Demacian's proper sense of duty. I simply don't follow it blindly."

"That's enough, Lee." Jarvan said finally, a grim look on his face as he used a cloth that Noel had produced to wipe the table clean. "Thank you, Noel." She bowed as she accepted the clothe from him.

"What, you think I'm wrong too?" Lee said defensively. Jarvan turned to face him fully, silence descending upon the room. Delancey, Noel, and Valentine all watched with apprehension as Jarvan glared at the mage. His chest rose and fell heavily once I a silent sigh before he turned to the other occupants of the room.

"Ladies, do me a favor and give me a moment alone with Lee, please." Jarvan said, trying to not let menace enter his voice. He waited as Delancey glanced at him, and though he met her gaze briefly, he simply nodded. She wore a frown but gestured for Valentine and Noel to follow.

"This way, Miss Isaacs." Delancey paused, looking at Valentine.

"Please just call me Valentine." She said softly, her eyes flicking nervously back and forth between Lee and Jarvan. She stood and gave Jarvan a withering gaze as Delancey led her into the outer room of Jarvan's suite. Noel bowed as she followed behind them, bowing as she pulled the door closed behind herself.

"Now, while I was _going _to agree with your comment about responsibility, I'm more inclined to sock you in the jaw right now." Jarvan growled, standing with his legs spread shoulder width apart and his arms crossed over his chest. "I took my frustrations out on the file folder and spilled some coffee, big deal. And here I was thinking you were the more level headed of my bodyguards. If you have any actual reason to be so angry, I shall listen to any grievances you have. If your reasons are sound, I shall deal with them as I see fit. Or, if you dislike this posting, you can see yourself now and head down to the personnel office to put in your transfer papers."

Anger showed on Lee's face. "Oh and I bet Sergeant Delancey got this same conversation, too." He sneered, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "This is a military investigation, not a baby sitting service."

"Actually, yes, I did have a conversation with Delancey about this." Jarvan growled. "She didn't like the idea of all this paperwork anymore than I did, and I set her straight. Now, if you're done pitching a bitch fit like a five-year-old, and want to speak to me like a soldier would address his _superior officer_, I _MIGHT_ not bust you back down to private."

"Sir!" Lee snapped to attention, color draining from his face.

"Now." Jarvan said, sighing, stepping up towards Lee with a grimace on his face. "If you like this posting, and you have a legitimate complaint, I will listen to them."

"Sir, I have nothing to say, sir!" Lee barked.

"Oh?" Jarvan said, leaning back slightly, posting his fists on his hips. "And here I thought daycare was starting to bore you." Jarvan shook his head and sighed. "Look, Sergeant, I'll be straight with you. I can't figure you out. If you want to say something, just be out with it before I request a new escort so I don't have to deal with this. I don't want anything in the way of us working together, and right now I'm pretty sure something massive is ticking you off. I don't like that in my subordinates. Now out with it."

Lee glared at the wall behind Jarvan for several tense moments, his face an impenetrable mask. He glanced at Jarvan, his shoulders heaving as he sighed. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Do it." Jarvan growled, though his voice had lost a lot of its menace.

"Sir, I really don't think this sort of investigation is the place for romance or you suffering from outstanding issues with your late lieutenant's death." Lee took a deep breath and held it for a moment and then exhaled again. "I can't see any good coming from the fact that this young woman was able to get herself assigned to this post just like that, especially when she had an existing post within Military Command. That consists of so many military code violations I can't even begin to list them, and this stinks of foul play or traded favors, neither of which I appreciate." Lee clenched his fists, obviously hesitating before he went on. "I worked my ass off to get through the Demacian Arcane Academy while my parents languished to pay for books and living expenses, giving away what little they had to ensure I did. To see someone like her who is able to abuse the system gets under my skin."

"She's the daughter of a man who was greater than any man you or I could ever hope to be." Jarvan said, a frown marring his face. "If you have a legitimate security concern regarding the young woman, and I can see you really are concerned about this, I will allow you to look into these issues. However, it will have to wait until after the meeting regarding Kalamanda."

Lee's glare had softened a bit, but he still looked uncomfortable. "Yes, sir."

"Something else, sergeant?" Jarvan turned to where a fresh cup of coffee Noel had poured for him sat on the corner of the table. He picked it up and took a sip.

"Not really sir." Lee said.

"That doesn't sound convincing, Lee." Jarvan raised an eyebrow as he lowered the cup to the edge of the table. "Convince me."

"Sir, aside from my considerable security concerns regarding both the woman and the archive breaches I would like permission to follow up, I'm not sure if I'm comfortable of the level of intimacy you seem to share with the young woman. If you've going to start to develop some sort of relationship with her..."

"Just do me a favor and stop right there." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "She's more akin to a little sister than anything else. I knew her when she was a child, and her father was like an uncle to me than a lieutenant. Besides, I've got a..." He hesitated for a moment as if searching for the proper word. "...someone I'm courting already. If you have an issue with that though..."

Jarvan could read his mind piecing things together one by one, working steadily towards the end goal. "Oh right, you mean you and the dragoness..."

"Yup." Jarvan said, sighing. "If you have a problem with that, then we really might have an issue."

"No sir." He snapped back to attention, his face becoming a mask again. "Now that I understand the situation a bit better, I think I can work with this."

"And you don't have an issue with me and a half dragon being together?" Jarvan raised an eyebrow.

"You can't change who you love, sir." Lee said with a tone that told Jarvan there was something else at work. He raised his eyebrow, but shrugged.

"Well put." Jarvan shook his head as he finished off his coffee. "Now, I'll let you run your investigation if it'll convince you that there is nothing to worry about with Valentine. I want to be able to trust you, Lee, you're my bodyguard, I have to be able to trust you. I hope you can come to trust me as well."

"Yes, sir." Lee said quietly. Jarvan could see the hesitation still in his face.

"Now, go fetch the others and we'll get back to work." Jarvan picked up a sandwich from the plate and started munching as he glared down at the table. "We've still got a huge amount of paperwork to deal with."

Jarvan laid back in his chair and yawned, raising his arms high above his head, letting his back crack. He slumped down, letting his arms fall over the sides of the plush, high backed chair.

"More coffee, sir?" Lee offered, standing up and cracking his neck from side to side. He took a deep breath and hung his head before straightening his tunic with a brush of his hands. Jarvan picked up his coffee cup and looked at the dregs along the bottom, the black liquid having coalesced into a syrupy substance.

"Is it still hot?" Jarvan leaned forward and ran his hands over his face, feeling the thick stubble that now covered his chin and cheeks. Lee picked up the coffee pot and shook it from side to side before he put his hand on the side of the pot. He looked to Jarvan and shrugged. "Bleh I hate cold coffee." Jarvan growled, leaning back in his chair. "If it's not too late, I can have Noel brew us another...good lord, it's three in the morning."

"Wait... is it really?" Delancey dropped the tome she was reading through on the table, dust rising from the pages as it hit the table. She glanced over to where Valentine had fallen asleep on her arm, two crisp copies of Jarvan's report sitting next to where she lay drooling on her sleeve. Delancey smiled at the young assistant before she looked up at the clock that hung above the massive desk that sat at the far end of the room. "Wow, it IS three." Delancey slumped forward and let her head hit the desk. "I can't believe I didn't notice that."

"Tell me about it, my boyfriend is going to kill me." Lee groaned as he stretched his back. Jarvan paused mid rising to his feet and looked over to where Lee was leafing through a stack of papers.

"Wait you mean..." Jarvan said, frowning slightly.

"Sir?" Lee said, looking back at Jarvan and then frowning.

"And all this time I could have sworn you were..." Jarvan said, pulling himself to his feet. "Uh, never mind."

"What, you thought I was single?" Lee said as he set about straightening the papers and tomes he was working with.

"No, no, I just through you were in to..." Jarvan hesitated and shrugged. "You know, it really doesn't matter."

A slight frown darkened Lee's brow. "Well it matters to me, because it sounds like you thought I was-..."

"Ey, cap'n, what do you want me to do with Valentine." Delancey had hauled herself up and she was standing next to the young woman who had fallen asleep on the table.

"Oh look Valentine is completely out, could you go deal with that? We'll continue this conversation later." Jarvan said hurriedly as if he was trying to avoid the issue. Lee shrugged and moved over to where the young woman was slumped over the table. She groaned a bit and shifted on her arm, slurping a bit, causing Lee to smile and Jarvan to snort and chuckle. "Hell, she even sleeps like her father." Lee sat her back in the chair, letting her head hang back, the brown ponytail drooped over the back of the chair. Lee grunted as he lifted her up in his arms and turned towards Jarvan.

"What exactly, do you want me to do with her?" Lee said with a bit of exertion. Jarvan pointed to a decorative sofa. It had been shoved off to the side of the room when they had brought the table into to the study.

"Just lay her out over there." Jarvan said, glancing around. "I'll go get a blanket and a pillow for her. Soon as you want, you can head on out of here."

Delancey was wandering aimlessly around the room, looking about before she returned to the cushy chair she had been working in. she hovered next to the chair for a few moments before she dragged it around the face the fireplace along the side of the room before she started digging through her pockets.

"Going to crash right there, Del?" Lee said, watching as she started to pull weapons from her person. She dropped the little bit of armor she wore on the ground next to the chair and then worked her tunic out from her belt, yawning. She deposited no less than a dozen throwing knives, a combat knife, a long and slender bladed dagger, two knuckledusters attached to knives with spikes on each knuckle, a short bladed falcata sword, and the saber from her hip, using her chest plate like a bowl. Satisfied she had removed all the weapons, she unsnapped the leather buckles on her grieves.

"Yep." She said, kicking off the armored steel boots, making sure she had a small, triangular shaped blade still strapped to her wrist and then glancing over at Jarvan. "I'll keep an ear out for anything, sir. I'm just going to crash here though, I don't wanna go back to the female dorms this late." Jarvan shrugged as she curled up in the chair, Delancey tucking her legs into her chest. "Besides, someone has to keep you from jumping her bones." She pointed to where Valentine lay on the couch.

"Nothing is going to... She's like a sister to me, damn it!" Jarvan protested, angrily. "I HAVE a girlfriend!"

"Whatever you say." Delancey said, waving him off as she pulled the bun free on the back of her head, tugging her brown hair over her shoulder.

"God... damn... it..." Jarvan muttered with an exasperated sigh. He turned to glare at Delancey, but she had closed her eyes and her chest immediately began to rise and fall deeply. "And she's out like a light." He shook his head and turned back to Lee. "Two questions: does she always fall asleep this quickly, and has she always carried enough weapons to equip a small army?"

Lee snorted and Jarvan watched a thin smile play over his face. "Well, as long as I've known her... yes and yes."

"I've got a friend she'll like." Jarvan said with a grin. "A real weapons enthusiast. More or less a walking armory." He looked back and forth from the two women who were asleep now and shook his head.

"Two women asleep in my suite, and neither of them are the one my heart lies with." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "God damn it."

"Speaking of significant others, I hope you don't have a problem with me having a boyfriend?" Lee said evenly, watching Jarvan's face to judge his reaction.

"Not an issue." Jarvan said shrugging. "If you had mentioned it earlier though, I would have let you gone home to him; I didn't mean to keep you so late. Though... it's a bit surprising after your triad earlier to see you having a significant other of your own."

"He understands this is important work." Lee said shrugging. "He gets a bit impatient when I stay away for several days though. And I don't have any issue with significant others, I just have reservations about a lack of separation between officers and their subordinates. I've seen that cause more trouble than I want to get involved in with my last unit." Lee wore a soft smile, the most emotion Jarvan had seen on his face in the past two days they had spent cooped up in Jarvan's study going through record, reports and hundred and hundreds of tomes. Jarvan shrugged, wearing a admonished smile. "Besides, it's partially a security issue that I'm worried about, not just the girl. If you have anything else you'd like me to sort through..."

Jarvan pinched the bridge of his nose and yawned, messaging his eyelids before wiping his face. "Nah, I don't think we're going to find anything substantial this late." Jarvan shrugged and let his shoulders fall. "You're free to go, Lee. I appreciate all the help with this crap." Jarvan gestured to the papers and books stacked around the office. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Of course, sir." Lee saluted tiredly and then spun, heading for the door. "Goodnight."

"Take care. Give my regards to your boyfriend." Jarvan grinned when Lee looked surprised, glancing over his shoulder at Jarvan. He shook his head and waved over his shoulder, disappearing beyond the door. Jarvan glanced at where Delancey used the chair as a bed, her head laid against the wing of the high backed chair, her blue forelocks falling around her face, long brown hair cascading over her shoulders. Jarvan shook his head as he lifted the stack of reports he had been browsing. He opened the top folder and glanced at it, frowning and then tossing it on the table, realizing he had already read that one.

Jarvan browsed the table, picking out an older looking file that was fairly thin, with frayed edges. He thumbed through it briefly, frowning at the coffee stains along the edge of the paper as he headed for his bedroom. He stepped through the darkened common room, the large fire that had been laid now smoldering embers. He glanced briefly around the room, looking over the many mementos from his past before pushing the door open to the bedroom beyond. Inside was a massive bed and a rather large, empty room, heavy doors holding out the cold as he tread into the room, thick carpet underfoot. There was a bathroom off to the side, but Jarvan glanced around the room before heading to where a massive chest was sitting at the end of the bed. Jarvan tossed the file folder on his bed and then opened the chest, pulling out two heavy blankets, the thick, soft wool fuzzy to the touch. He headed back to the study and then tucked one under his arm, tossing the large heavy blanket over Valentine. She shifted a bit as it settled on top of her and she pulled it around her. Jarvan grinned as he stepped over to Delancey and tossed the other around her.

Satisfied, Jarvan paused, looking back into the dark depths of the suite and frowned, glancing at the clock.

He shivered.

_It may not be the company I would most prefer, but it'll do to warrant off the nightmares._

Jarvan stepped up to a side table and then opened a drawer, pulling out a stack of parchment paper. He took the paper and headed over to his desk, grabbing the short stacks each of his officers had pulled out tossing them on the desk before slumping down in the high backed chair. He pulled a quill and ink bottle from his desk, and started to piece together the makings of suggestions for Councilor Crownguard's contingency plan.

Jarvan sighed and started scratching a plan out onto the parchment.


	9. Chapter 8: Tension

The bar was warm if empty as the noncommisioned officer forced the door closed against the gusting winds. Snow was still in banks along the city roads and a sew flakes danced along the floor as the latch clicked shut. The few men was sat around the fireplace groused against the chill of the wind but they turned back to their drinks and their quiet chatter when they saw the three chevrons of a sergeant on the newcomers shoulder as he swept his cloak over his shoulder. Some made gestures of acknowledgment, but the sergeant showed no interest in the enlisted men, quickly searching the bar over until he saw who he was looking for. He made quick strides, but he was careful to glance around discreetly to ensure nothing was out of the ordinary. Satisfied that the few remaining enlisted men were too busy with their drinks to bother with him or his friend, he slid into the booth.

"Evening, sergeant. Enjoying the new post?" The man was dressed in a dark brown strider-leather jacket and a pair of dark slacks. Polished shoes matched his nice shirt beneath the jacket, a nicely cut vest buttoned up as if he was a waiter at a fine restaurant. The sergeant grunted as he sat back, pulling his heavy clock aside to reveal a set of standard Demacian fatigues. His uniform was sparsely decorated, a combat Magician's tab was above a Demacian Army tab over his left breast pocket, and he wore the Demacian coat of arms and a Unit patch showing the crossed swords of the Demacian Royal Guard on his right shoulder. The name tab was missing from his right pocket, but that wasn't out of the ordinary for officers among the Royal Guard. Smokey light shrouded his face beneath his hood, but olive skin could be see as he looked up towards the ceiling where a record played soft, slow music through the pub. "How was the prince doing this evening?"

"Oh drop the formalities." The sergeant grumbled and sighed heavily. "After today, I'm really not up for it."

"Aww, don't be such a Debby downer." Leather Jacket said, chuckling, getting a disgruntled glare from the sergeant. "I was just teasing you. How was your day?"

"Nothing too out of the ordinary but way too long." The sergeant said brusquely, dropping a coin onto the table and waving the only barmaid working this late over. "Ale, please." She nodded and turned away, heading towards the large wooden bar where a sleepy looking balding man would pour a drink every few minutes as he closed out the late night business, mostly soldiers coming off of late duty assignments .

"Ease up a bit, Wally." Leather Jacket said with a grin, leaning back. "This was supposed to be a casual date, not a military tribunal. Is working with him really that hard?"

The sergeant named Wally shook his head and leaned forward on the table. "Yeah, it's getting pretty frustrating. Keeping up my cover is getting more and more difficult as the prince grows angry at the king and the crap he has to deal with. Hell, even I'm starting to feel for him."

"Don't tell me you've lost your edge now..." Leather Jacket said with an amused grin.

"Hardly, but if I'm to stay under this persona for an extended period of time, I'm going to actively have to earn and maintain the prince's trust. If I don't have it, this is going to be a pain."

"Ease up, Wally, we're still in public." Leather Jacket said with a soft grin. "But I'm sure that's why you haven't called or written in the past three days, huh?" His eyes sparkled in the dim light as he leaned back and covered his mouth and laughed, accepting a refill from the barmaid as she put a second in front of him, and an ale in front of Wally. Wally's frown darkened a bit, but that only caused the other to laugh heartily again. "I'm only kidding, calm down. You're so cute when you're flustered."

"Oh shut up." Wally said, glancing away. The door opened again and they both silenced themselves, looking towards the disturbance. A young woman, fairly short but clad in a heavy dark green cloak with a hood pulled low over her face, stepped out of the chill, a dark blue bird on her shoulder. It had a sharp crest of feathers on the crown of its head, and lighter plumage on its chest.

"Lost, young lady?" The barkeep said with a frown. "It's awful late for you and your bird to be out and about. Why don't you go on home to your parents."

"I'd like a room, please." She said softly, ignoring his statement, running a hand along the bird's head. It had piercing golden eyes that watched intently as the barkeep went through the motions of polishing a glass.

"Oh, is that so?" the Barkeep said, trying to keep his eyes off the young woman's bird.

"Yes please, just one night." She pulled out a couple of silver coins. "This should cover it." She showed him the coins and then emptied them into his hands.

"Yeah that'll do." He said, nodding slowly as he looked over the silver coins. He dug behind the bar and finally pulled out an old, dull key, handing it over the the young woman. "Stay here a sec, I'll go grab your change."

"How about food and drink instead of change." She said gesturing to the bar. The barkeep frowned but shrugged and nodded.

"It'll be a few moments, but I'll see what we've got left." He poured some juice into a glass and handed it over to her. She sniffed at it

"What, not something harder?" She said, pouting.

"Maybe when you're older, kid." The barkeep snorted. "Have a seat in the mean time, I'll bring the food out when it's ready."

"Thanks," She said nodding, heading towards a booth against the far wall.

...

"Runeterra to Sergeant Wally..." Leather Jacket said with a grin. "You there, sergeant?"

"Huh?" Wally shook his head and ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, sorry, just trying to keep vigilant while being this tired is difficult. You were asking about the prince?" Leather Jacket eyed the sergeant up for a moment but shrugged.

"How's his mental state right now, he's got to be feeling the pressure. And I bet he's a little fucked up in the head after his adventure, isn't he?" Leather Jacket yawned as he sipped the foam off the top of his brew and then licked it from his upper lip.

"He seems stable enough." Wally said, stifling a yawn and then tossing off a quarter of his ale. "He's still hung up on the loss of his company, and from what I can tell, there is fairly substantial mental damage and possible psychosomatic issues stemming from his anger and frustration. While I can't be sure, I think he's only getting worse by being separated from the dragon-girl and being back in Demacia is keeping him from sleeping at night, only compounding existing problems. He's going to crash soon, and it's going to be hard." Wally paused and shrugged. "Aside from the mental deterioration from his frustrations with his current working conditions and the forced quarantine from the half-dragon, he seems mentally sound."

"Been pushing his buttons, have you?" Leather Jacket said with another grin as he swirl his stein about and then lifted it to his lips.

"Yeah, it's not fun though." Wally said with a sigh. "I nearly had to blow my cover today when he knocked over a cup of coffee and went berserk. He started dressing me down like a drill sergeant, but he realized he was simply frustrated and turned it into a sort of test."

"Oh my, he sounds like he hasn't lost his edge at all..." Leather Jacket purred.

"He's razor sharp but spring loaded. He's wound way too tight and with all the pressure he's feeling, his crash and burn might turn into the better part of a massive explosion." Wally shrugged and took another sip of ale. "I know this is just my personal opinion, but my hunch is that in his current state, the reaction is going to be explosive and dangerous for those around him. I'll do what I can to throttle him, but I don't really know what I'm going to be able to do about it just yet."

"Any ideas about what might be useful for controlling or keeping him in line when push comes to shove?" Leather Jacket said, a more placid and thoughtful face descending upon him as he laid back.

"I think the dragon-girl is the key to keeping him in place." Wally said with a shrug. "He's a good man, but he's brash and impulsive when pushed. Continuing to hold the dragon hostage for an extended period of time is probably going to have the opposite effect to what we want. I would say just give her the position she wants as a bodyguard within the palace guard and he can waste his time screwing her and not meddling in our affairs. But again, that's just my suggestion."

Leather Jacket sighed. "Fine, I'll pass the word along to top and see what they think."

"Thanks, AJ." Wally said with a small smile. "Oh and I need a favor."

"Well this is new." AJ said, smoothing his leather jacket down as he sat up. "You don't often ask for favors."

"I just need some info." Wally slid his hand out along the table, making a show of taking AJ's hand in his, depositing a small piece of paper in his hand as he did.

"Well, I'll see what I can do." AJ yawned and looked at the clock. "You should probably get home, it's pretty late and you've probably got to get an early start tomorrow, am I right?"

"Yep." Wally said, tossing off the last of his ale and pulling himself out of the booth. He tapped the silver coin on the table. "Enough to cover both tabs?" He spoke to the woman who approached and eyed the coin.

"Of course, sir." She said, nodding, her braids bouncing as she did. "I'll get your change."

"Keep it." Wally said, heading for the door, pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders. "Thanks for staying open so late."

"Of course sir." She said, bowing in thanks, following as they moved towards the door. "You and your boyfriend stay warm, you hear?"

"Will do." He pulled the door shut.

The barmaid watched them hug, exchanged a quick kiss and then go their separate ways. "What a cute couple." She said to herself, smiling. She turned to the young woman, still grinning. "You wait just a few more minutes, hon, I'll be right back with you food."

"Thanks!" The young woman said with a smile, pulling her hood back to reveal a shock of shoulder length dark hair, messy from her hood. As she shook her hair out and ran hands through it to try and straighten it, the golden eyed bird cocked its head from side to side, shaking its feathers slightly. The young woman eyed the bird with an eyebrow raised, her golden eyes wide and shimmering in the dim light. Her legs stopped moving and she sighed heavily.

"Well... uh... that's not exactly what I expected upon arriving in Demacia." She said softly.

The bird squawked once and shook its head from side to side. The young woman perked up a bit and looked over her shoulder to the kitchen, and then back to the bird.

"Well Valor, we only just got here and Jarvan's already got to be depending on us again." She said with a pixie grin. "It's just like nothing ever changed!" She kicked her legs out and leaned back, smiling.

The bird squawked derisively.

"What? Stick to the plan..." she crossed her arms over her chest and frowned."Not likely." She glanced away and frowned. "Stupid bir-OW! Valor!" The bird had swatted her with his wing and then hopped down onto the table, turning it head to glare at her. The young woman tried to maintain her frown but it melted after a few moments. "Yeah, yeah, I've got this covered. We'll start snooping tomorrow though, okay? I'm tired and hungry." The bird shook its feather disapprovingly but seemed to calm down.

She smiled. "I suppose it's time Demacia got a couple of _real_ heroes." She giggled to herself as she sipped at the juice, clearly excited.

* * *

"Perhaps you would like to join us, Prince Jarvan?" The voice cut through Jarvan's daydreams of Shyvana. The prince shook his head and pushed himself up higher in his chair, high in the Council chambers. High Councilor Elias glared up at him from his presiding perch over the council chambers. "Sorry if we're boring you, but if you want to sleep, you should leave the chambers."

"Apologies." Jarvan said, blushing. "Please continue."

Elias glared at him for several seconds before sighing and turning back to the papers in front of him. "As I was saying, the king has prepared a report regarding the distribution of forces in Kalamanda. If you'd like to bring the council up to speed, your highness?"

"Of course." King Jarvan glanced up at his son, shook his head and then proceeded to the center of the council room. "Thank you, esteemed councilors, for the chance to fully prepare this report. Recent movements across Valoran have shown a massive build up in forces, and though we aim to avoid causing an incident by consistently trying to outmatch our Noxian opponents, we've strived to match their forces. With the large influx of forces into the region, we have aimed to maintain a healthy presence without actively inciting violence or causing trouble for the locals."

He paused and turned to accept a sheet of parchment paper from an officer. "The scouts under Colonel Jerome have been monitoring the ongoing situation in the region around Kalamanda." He glanced down at the list. "Our expeditionary force consists of two full regiments, making up an understrength brigade worth of troops. In addition to standard infantry battalions, we've moved armored cavalry and artillery units in to secure the holdings of the Loadstone Mining Consortium in addition to other Demacian interests in the area. To support the large influx of troops, we've been forced to move our own food supplies into the region to support our forces without breaking the city of it's limited resources. We've begun to seek support from Merchant Guild within Demacia Proper to keep the supplies fresh and flowing, and so far, the movement of supplies has been moving according to plan. We're using what little we have in excess supplies to garner a mutually beneficial relationship with the Kalamandan people as we try to move and secure the sole rights to mine the precious minerals that were recently discovered by prospectors."

"What sort of forces are we up against as far as the other City-states are concerned?" Councilor Krackoffen tugged on his gray beard sagely, a frown marring his face.

"I was just getting to that." King Jarvan said, nodding. "Noxian forces number similar to our own, just over two and a half regiments, though we have been unable to actively determine what sort of distribution of forces they have in the area. We've seen evidence of Arcane Artillery and Monitor Dragon based cavalry in addition to their standard infantry forces. We suspect a similar distribution of forces to our own, but we have been unable to pinpoint the exact numbers. There is a small number of Zaunite forces in the area, not more than an understrength battalion, in addition to a company of Piltover researchers that our forces have been assisting with investigations on the valuable minerals in the area to determine their exact composition and worth."

"Has the Mayor of Kalamanda said anything regarding who the mineral rights contract will go to yet?" Councilor Spiritmight wore an impenetrable frown as he leaned heavily on the desk before him.

"No, councilor, he has not." King Jarvan said, turning towards him. "He has expressed gratitude towards our continued assistance as the political situation in the region fluctuates, though several officials within the Kalamandan government and constabulary have expressed interest in what Zaun has to offer."

"Zaun?" Councilor Krackoffen scoffed. "That's preposterous, there's no reason what so ever for them to side with Zaun."

"My sentiments, Councilor." King Jarvan said, nodding. "While my forces have been unable to ascertain why they chose Zaun over the decidedly superior strength of both Demacia and Noxus financially and militarily, we can't completely wave the idea that there might be foul play afoot."

"You suspect something between the Zaunites and Kalamandan officials?" Councilor Spiritmight raised an eyebrow. "Those are bold claims, my king. Surely you have some evidence to back them up?"

"They are merely the suspicions of an overly paranoid old man." The king said, his eyes darkening slightly as he met his brother-in-law's gaze. "I'm erring on the side of caution with this one, Haywood. I've kept this strictly within my staff until now, and while I've sequestered information from the Kalamandan officials, I've been unable to determine anything. Colonel Jerome's scouts within the city, as well as what forces of the Demacian Security Brigade I've been able to task to Kalamanda, have been warned to keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

A murmur passed through the legislative council, and Jarvan himself had to frown at the decision.

"Are you really so worried that you would deploy your own secret police, father?" Jarvan murmured under his breath.

"Sir?" Delancey leaned in as if she expected an order or request. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Jarvan said dismissively, running a hand over my face. "Just thinking aloud is all."

"Of course, sir." Delancey stepped back and curtly shook her head at Lee to indicate nothing was wrong.

_This could be problematic if the DSB gets involved. _Jarvan frowned. Consisting of hundreds of small special operations units, the Demacian Security Battalion was responsible for a number of different things. The safety of the royal family, information gathering on other governments, and the detainment of political prisoners were just some of the many duties shared with other more traditional Demacian military units. The difference was that the DSB reported directly to King Jarvan, and didn't share the same restrictions as the Demacian Army or Navy. They played fast and loose with the rules for the most part, they were capable and willing of using underhanded methods and tactics to get what they want.

"Order, councilors." Elias said evenly, though he could feel the issues many carried over the fact that the king had deployed the DSB without greater notification to the council. "Do you have anything else for the council regarding the force distribution in Kalamanda, your highness?"

"No, High Councilor, that concludes my report." The king bowed to the council and resumed his seat.

"Now, this brings up to the matter at hand: The Kalamanda Mineral right's dispute." High Councilor Elias said with a frown. "As we've covered the history of the region previously, we might as well jump straight into the matter we are most concerned with amid the council: the heavy presence of Noxian and Zaunite forces in the region."

"We have a large presence of our own within the region, though, how is this our most pressing concern?" A councilor said, her arms crossed over her chest. "Shouldn't our efforts be concentrated on winning the support of the Kalamandans?"

"Yes and no." Another councilor said, shrugging. "The issue is one we must skirt cautiously because of the current balance of power in Kalamanda and the rising number of forces of all parties involved. If we continue to escalate the threat and force Noxus to react to us, we run the risk of becoming the aggressor, and that is not a role we want to represent. If we keep on our current path though, reacting to Noxian forces, we end up in the position of being defenders or peacekeepers, only in the region to maintain the peace and protect the Kalamandan people."

"That's a farce and you know it, Councilor Fedorran." Councilor Laurent said, brushing his hand over his salt and pepper beard. "We, as Demacians, are actively pursuing the rights for sole control of the mineral mines in Kalamanda. To try and say otherwise both undermines our position in the region and sends the wrong message to the Kalamandans. We want to express interest in both controlling the mines as well as assisting in Kalamanda's safety and security as an independent province."

"Well put." Councilor Krackoffen mused, nodding. "But Councilor Fedorran also has a point. We must be willing to gain an upper hand on Noxus through any means necessary, and while it might not be the most graceful way of doing so, appealing to the Kalamandan people and Government holds merit as an idea."

"I'm only one of several merchants who has donated multiple tons of foodstuffs to help deal with the incredible burden the rapid influx of troops has forced upon the region. What more can we do?" The councilor who was speaking frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest, his impeccably well groomed hair sitting perfectly, as if it had been carved from stone.

"The council is well aware of this fact, Councilor Yankov." Krackoffen said waving for the man to calm himself and sit down. The merchant councilor, Yankov, frowned but seated himself. "We are infinitely grateful for you and the merchant guild's quick response, but I was thinking along the lines of something more personal."

"What did you have in mind, Krackoffen?" Councilor Laurent said, twirling the tips of his beard around his finger.

"Our armed forces are renowned across Runeterra." Krackoffen said, gesturing and nodding at the king who gave him a return nod for the indirect compliment. "It wouldn't be outside our realm of possibilities to offer training and assistance to the Kalamandan Militia, in addition to trying to assist them with the policing of the region. Not policing it for them, but working with them to provide the muscle necessary to keep everyone in line."

"My forces are ready and willing to assist the Kalamandan forces, be it with training, exercises, or even simply arms and armor." The king said nodding. "This idea has merit if you ask me."

"While I think it does have it's reasoning, we must tread carefully." Fedorran said angrily. "If we try to muscle in upon the Kalamandan forces, the Noxians and Zaunites may view this as a threat and react accordingly my reinforcing the region."

"That would put them in the position of being the aggressor again, though." Laurent said evenly. "While that isn't good or bad, as we know Noxians have no premonitions about anyone else's views on their methods or ideas, as we saw with the Invasion of Ionia seven years previous. They may react violently, despite the growing presence of the Institute of War in the region as well." He frowned before continuing. "We saw just how the Institute reacted seven years ago, after the invasion had begun. The legitimized it after a rather swift and brutal 'match' upon their fields of justice, and then stood idly by while Noxus besieged the country and mercilessly slaughtered thousands."

"What has happened to the refugees retreating from Kalamanda?" Councilor Brightstorm said, raising his hand slightly so as to appear not but so rude as he jumped into the conversation. "It was my understanding that people have begun to flee the city as military forces pour in from both sides. Have we considered extending an olive branch to them to try and gain the people's trust?"

"We can't push our resources but so far." Councilor Yankov growled, shaking his head. "We've given a decent amount of our reserves to the Kalamandans, distributed amid the city dwellers and the refugees. If we bring the Kalamandans into the city we'll be forced to feed and house them. We can't do that but for so long."

"Yankov, if I remember correctly, you and the merchants guild reported that this coming year was going to be the most profitable harvest in the last two decades, and if I recall correctly, last year, you said the exact same thing." Councilor Laurent said, the makings of a smirk forming on his face as he tugged on his mustache.

"Yes well..." Yankov began to say.

"Then surely you and the merchants guild are going to be able to spare some additional foodstuffs to give to refugees." Laurent said with a smile. "Otherwise you would be selling it, right? Shipping it across Valoran to Piltover, Bandle City, Ionia, Zaun, the Freljord and even Noxus? Surely you would rather aid in the progression of your country than line your own coffers... what would the people think of the likes of that?"

"Enough, I was merely pointing out that it will be an economic strain we must take into consideration when formulating plans." Yankov said, sitting heavily in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "We do have an abundance of foodstuffs even with the winter to come. Housing them all may be an issue, but we have the necessary supplies and resources to make it happen. I would like to suggest that we set up a guest worker program to allow them to contribute to the economy rather than simply feeding on our good will. There is plenty of work that needs doing, especially with the increasing mobilization of our forces."

"It would prove useful to have workers to step in for any reserves we need to call upon if things continue to escalate." The king mused, a smile starting to form on his face. "Is the merchants guild able to assist in the management and training of any guest workers we bring into the city? I'm sure I can speak with the Provost Marshal about having the police forces organize a way to keep track of the the refugees."

"I will speak with the Merchant's Guild and begin the arrangements if the plan goes through." Yankov said, trying to make up for his short comings before, so astutely pointed out by Councilor Laurent.

"I can have my forces begin spreading the word then, and we can begin to set the infrastructure to support such a program." The king said nodding. "I'll have one of my men work with you and the Merchants guild to get it set up."

"That would be perfect, sir." Yankov said, nodding.

"Very good, so we have a course of action settled." Elias said, raising his voice.

"I move to begin a vote to accept the current plan." Councilor Laurent said.

"I second that." Councilor Buvelle said, speaking up for the first time. She drew some curious glances, but she also drew looks of approval.

"Very well." Elias said, nodding. "We will now vote on the suggested plan of supporting Kalamandan refugees, beginning a guest worker program, and working with the Kalamandan forces to try and garner public and governmental support. All in favor?" He quickly did a mental count as hands were raised all around the room, even the reluctant support of Councilor Yankov. "Very well, we have a quorum. If you'll organize the proceedings, your highness?"

"Of course." The king said, nodding his head. "I'll have one of the officers from the Provost Marshal's office set something up with the Merchant guild soon."

"I'll be on the look out for it, sire." Yankov said, nodding.

"Before we stray too far from the issue, I'd like to ask the council's opinion of the supposed Noxian and Ionian Rematch that is slated to occur at the end of the week." Councilor Crownguard said aloud, looking to the council. "While I know this isn't strictly concerning Kalamanda, there are going to be fairy far reaching effects if this battle occurs."

"It is my understanding, according to my daughter, that the battle is legitimate and sanctioned by the league, as well as Noxus and Ionia." Councilor Buvelle said, speaking of her adopted daughter, Sona. "While she wasn't able to offer any reasons as to why the Noxians would extend such an offer, she has expressed her concerns about what would happen is Noxus were to win."

"It's not like they can extend their hold upon the territory they control in southern Ionia, is it?" Fedorran said curiously.

"I don't think my daughter has had a chance to communicate with any of the summoners regarding the official rulings for something like that." Buvelle said with a frown. "Though she expressed that Demacia should be wary for additional pressure in the Kalamanda region if the Noxians are forced out of Ionia. They be looking to try and garner the resources in Kalamanda if they lose access to Ionia's natural resource stockpiles. And if they win the rematch, they might be emboldened by their victory and strike out in Kalamanda."

"So what you're saying is that regardless of the outcome of this battle, you believe we're in trouble." Councilor Laurent said, frowning.

"More or less, yes." Councilor Buvelle said, nodding solemnly.

"Bloody hell." Laurent growled, shaking his head.

"Control yourself, councilor." Elias said with a bit of amusement in his voice.

"Apologies, Councilor Elias." Laurent said with a smile, but the high councilor simply nodded. "Your Majesty, do you believe this will change anything in the short term regarding our existing plan?"

"Not just yet, councilor." The king said with a frown. "Though I will ensure my forces are prepared for any new developments regarding either outcome of the battle."

"Very well." The high councilor mused, turning back to his notes. "Councilor Crownguard, are you able to present your staff's contingency plans yet?"

Marcus Crownguard stood and then bowed at the high councilor. "No sir, not yet." He paused and then glanced at the king. "Despite the prince's assistance in this matter, Jericho Swain's reach is proving to be reaching far and distant, stretching further back that I initially expected. While there are almost a dozen incidents that we can definitively tied to him, there are several hundred that will have to be analyzed case by case. With the prince's continued assistance I hope we can work through them fairly quickly. Once that is complete and his capabilities have been fully explored, we can begin to extrapolate what he's willing and capable of doing."

"And my son has proved helpful?" The king said, stroking his beard, glancing up to where Jarvan sat.

"He has." Councilor Crownguard said, nodding. "He and his staff have been able to narrow down our reports for consideration. It went from several thousand to only a few hundred, though we have yet to turn up much substantial in the way of hard information on Swain or his background."

"Perhaps the prince will be able to fill us in on what he's found?" High Councilor Elias suggested, gesturing towards the prince.

"Of course. Jarvan?" The king looked to him and Jarvan felt his stomach knot up as he pushed himself to his feet and cleared his throat.

"While I was given access to hundreds of resources within the Academy Archives, I wasn't able to dig up much in the way of information on Jericho Swain. The earliest records of Swain trace back to intercepted reports from Noxian officers and written notes from Demacian Scouts regarding fighting with Noxus on the border. These notes date from the last major border war with Noxus, and though they don't mention him by name, the descriptions matches Swain's appearance to the point where it is indisputable. From that point, the first real mention of Swain comes when he receives his commission from Major to Lieutenant Colonel at the end of the last great border war, not long before the formation of the League of Legends. From there, the records are complete but vague with only small holes here and there that seem to be directly correlated to reports from other military forces or Noxian News clippings."

"No recorded history of his birth at all?" Councilor Laurent raised an eyebrow. The doubt on his face clearly showed that he doubted Jarvan was telling the truth.

"No sir." Jarvan said, addressing the councilor directly. "Without access to Noxian records, Swain is a virtual ghost prior to a certain point." Jarvan shrugged.

Laurent frowned and pointed towards Jarvan. "But surely you cou-..."

"Unfortunately, the information just doesn't exist for me to access, councilor." Jarvan growled.

"Thank you, Prince Jarvan." High Councilor Elias said, cutting off Councilor Laurent before the older legislator could open his mouth to argue with the prince. "Councilor Crownguard, how long will it take to analyze the remaining reports and draft up the contingency plans?"

"A few weeks at best." The Crownguard Councilor said with a frown. "Even with the prince's assistance, it will probably take us a while to get through all the reports to extract the valuable information, and from there we'll have to analyze each drafted plan, projecting all of the consequences of each before we narrow them down. And now, will the problems regarding the Ionia and Noxus rematch, it could prove to take even longer."

"Very well." The High Councilor said, nodding. "Perhaps having the prince assigned to your staff for a period of time will speed the process along?"

"It's certainly possible." Councilor Crownguard said, nodding.

"Very well. I'll see to it the paperwork is taken care of in the mean time." The king said, nodding. "Though being a member of a councilor's staff usually requires a higher rank than that of a captain." He turned and looked to his son. "I hope you'll accept the promotion that goes along with this appointment, Prince Jarvan. To go with this and to speed your investigations, I'm upping your security clearance to the highest level. That is, if you accept the promotion of course."

"Of course, your highness." Jarvan said, standing and bowing.

"Very good." The king said with a thin smile. "I'm bumping you up to Lieutenant Colonel, and you'll work under Councilor Crownguard and General Lorcan. Congratulations." A smattering of polite applause filtered through the council room.

"Sir." Jarvan said, nodding, before returning to his seat.

"If anyone has any further business to conduct?" The High Councilor glanced around the room, looking for anything further to be brought up but the councilors remained silent. "Very well, this will conclude our proceedings for now. We shall recess for two hours for lunch and then reconvene to continue with our regular legislative efforts, sans those military officers who needed be involved with the law making affairs of politicians." He raised his gavel and brought it down, striking the desk.

"I'm really getting fed up with these meetings." Jarvan groaned as he pulled himself to his feet and yawned.

"Congratulations on your Promotion, Lieutenant Colonel Lightshield." Lee snapped off a stiff salute. Delancey did as well, though she wore a goofy grin.

"Thanks, I think." Jarvan said wearing a small smile of his own.

"Well sir, I'm happy to say while our only duty under you was a bit boring, I had a lot of fun." Delancey said with a shrug and a grin. "If you ever need a bodyguard, or just a soldier, don't be afraid to send for me."

Jarvan frowned a bit. "Well if you thi-..."

"Jarvan." The king's voice was deep as he drew his son's attention, forestalling the prince's further comments. "Congratulations on your promotion, my son."

"Thank you, father." Jarvan said nodding. His gaze turned to the man with thin, dark eyes and black hair pulled back in a pony tail, a long spear held vertically, a blue and gold banner hung just behind the steel head. "Xin Zhao, it has been too long." Jarvan said with a smile, bowing to the Seneschal.

"Greetings, young master." The Seneschal replied with a serene smile, returning the bow. "I had heard of your return while I was attending to business with the Institute of War. I am glad to see you have returned unharmed."

"Thank you." Jarvan said, letting a bit of a cocky grin slide onto his face. "Though I'm hardly 'young' anymore."

"Apologies." Xin said, nodding sagely. "Though as I am old enough to be your father, or even your grandfather, I believe I garner he right to refer to you as 'young'." Jarvan chuckled and shrugged.

"Eloquent as ever." Jarvan smiled. Jarvan started to turn back to his subordinates, but he paused. "If you would allow me, father, I have a request to accompany my promotion."

"Oh?" The king said, looking back towards Jarvan. "Seldom does an officer ask favors to accompany a promotion." The prince met his father's even glare, the king's eyes a neutral bluish-gray, neither icy nor dangerously dark. He stared at his son for a few brief moments before he sighed and nodded slightly. "Walk with me and I will listen." They moved through the doorway and into the halls of the Demacian Palace.

"I'd like to have these two officers, as well as my administrative assistant, transferred to my staff under the councilor and General Lorcan."

"Oh, is that all?" The king said, surprise playing over his face before he managed to conceal it. "Of course, I'll need you to submit the paperwork but it will be an easy enough reallocation of forces."

"Thank you, sir." Jarvan said, narrowing his eyes. _He expected something else? _"In addition, Father," Jarvan said, pushing forward." I'd like to request Shyvana be transferred out of Lt. Colonel Spiritmight's training unit and into my command. I'd also like Corporal Ellington Forsythe to be returned to my command."

Jarvan III's brow darkened a bit and his eyes narrowed. "Corporal Forsythe is undergoing medical therapy and a psych evaluation to my knowledge. He is still suffering the ill effects of a lack of proper medical treatment for his missing eye, and he shows major signs of post traumatic stress disorder due to the loss of the remainder of your company."

"Forsythe?" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow. "There's no way he'd be suffering from something like that. He is stronger than that."

"Are you a doctor?" The king said, his frown growing darker. Jarvan opened his mouth to speak but his father cut him off with a cloudy blue gaze silenced his protests. "I did not think so. He is not combat or service ready until he is cleared from the hospital. He is getting the best of care so let him recover. Two years of service... this is the least you can give him."

"Fine." Jarvan growled, feeling shamed at having had his argument turned back on him so swiftly. "How about Shyvana. I'm sure she's swept through the tests as if they were nothing. She's a powerful ally to Demacia. Keeping her trapped in a training unit is paramount to throwing away resources. You always manage Demacia like a hawk, this is hardly your way."

"You let your emotions rule your judgments about that... _woman." _The was a moment of hesitation in his voice that spoke of how he had been tempted to use another word. "I've already waved the mandatory basic training that all new recruits must go through. I was told she actually failed her initial test in her unit. Apparently, the lieutenant saw it fit to give her the chance to waive training completely if she had won but she was taken down fairly swiftly."

"Shyvana lost?" Jarvan said, falling a bit short, his shoulders sinking just a bit. "But how..."

"I believe you trained with her lieutenant... a Proudmast Vorscham?" The king smirked as Jarvan's face went blank. "Now just forget about her for now, you have other duties you must attend to. Chasing exotic tail can wait till later." He turned to leave, but he noticed his son's fists were shaking at his side.

"You think that is all this is about?" Jarvan growled, his tone dropping. "You think me so shallow?"

"No, I think you a young man who has been gone for two years." His father said evenly. "It would only be natural that you would let yourself become enamored with the first thing you could lay your hands upon. It's only natural."

"So you think I'm a desperate pig, then?" Jarvan IV stopped and turned to face his father, their guards slowing to a halt behind them. "That I would go for anything with breasts and a vagina?"

"Mind your tongue." The king said, his irritation starting to show in his eyes as the corners of his mouth turned down under the edges of his beard. "It's simply human nature. As soon as you come to your senses about this 'Shyvana' business, I have already arranged for your fiance to meet you."

"Fiance?!" Jarvan practically shouted, bringing all traffic in the busy hallway to a screeching halt. Soldiers all turned to face him, officers, noncommissioned officers, and enlisted men alike turned to watch as the prince stamped his foot and shouted in anger.

"Yes." The king said with an annoyed frown. "I was going to let your mother tell you this later today, but the council decided to host a ball, to honor your promotion and to celebrate your return to Demacia. Your fiance was going to be announced then and there."

"Like hell." Jarvan snarled. "I'd rather run myself through with my lance!"

"That could be arranged!" His father snarled back, his eyes clouding over like a ranging thunderstorm. Silence swallowed the hallway like a void, soldiers crowding at both ends of the hallway. Many needed to pass, but many were too scared to try and pass the king and prince as they argued.

"Should we stop him?" Lee whispered to Delancey, watching the king and the prince continue their shouting match.

"You wanna try it? Be my guest." Delancey said, crossing her arms uncomfortably over her chest, steel forearm plates clanking against her chest plate. She looked angered, but Lee couldn't tell what exactly at. Lee glowered but turned back to where the royal shouting match had resumed.

"I'm telling you now, I refuse any woman you appoint for me to marry! I won't put up with it!" The prince shouted, disgust rolling off his tongue.

"It's not just about what you want, you royal brat." The king snarled. "I put up with your silly journey for over two years. It's time you grew up and faced the real world as the Demacian Crown Prince, not a little boy screwing his way through college, fumbling his way across the battlefield and crashing through politics like a bloody bull!"

"Bite me, old man!" Jarvan shouted. "I didn't ask for any of this! I had to watch my entire company get slaughtered before my very eyes. I still have nightmares where I watch Noxians behead my men, running them through and lopping limbs off for fun. You slunk your way up through the ranks by way of the Demacian Security Brigade, politics, and talking. You blew smoke up people's asses to get your way! You're a soft fucking politician and I don't want anything to do with the Lightshield Dynasty if it's going to mean being like you!"

"Shut your mouth." The king snapped, staring up at his son, the tension in the air so thick you could slice it with a knife. "The world isn't just about war anymore. You can't simply go out and bully and bloody anyone you don't agree with; you can't threaten to start a war over things so trivial as a single company of soldiers! Demacia is a proud nation and there is no retreat, no surrender. They found their honor in death! Maybe you should think about someone other than yourself for once. You do nothing but dwell on your past and you're going to get yourself killed. Right now you're no better than that half-human, half-beast monster you keep as a pet! You're not fit for office or as the hei-..."

Jarvan reared his fist back and stepped in as fury consumed him, driving him into a blind rage. Xin swept in, levering the prince back with the tip of his lance, slamming him into the wall with such force that a vase upon a pedestal bounced and then smashed upon the floor, sending water, china, and flowers streaming everywhere. Xin pushed forward, pressing his forearm across the prince's chest as he struggled.

"Jarvan, use your head!" Xin hissed, anger in his voice. "This was not the way you were trained. I did not teach you like this, and this is hardly fitting of the crown-prince! You the heir to an empire, not a little boy!"

Jarvan heated glare turned to the aging Seneschal, but the fury slowly started to subside. His chest heaved as his breathing slowed, and the anger turned to disgust. He glared at his father in indignation.

"I rest my point." The king said, smoothing the decorative tunic over top of his armor, stepping out of the rapidly expanding puddle from the vase. "I've had enough of this nonsense, and I'm through indulging your selfish desires." He sighed heavily, shaking his head. "This is no place for this sort of outburst, and if you were even half as mature as you should be then you would have known that. Perhaps you came back to soon. You're as hot-headed and as rash as ever. Though I suppose it's good that if nothing else your spirit hasn't been broken."

"I'm a much better man than you'll ever be." The prince snarled. "I've known men that were ten times what you are. You're not a king, you're just a puppet master pulling the strings and watching as those around you dance and suffer. But you know what, I refuse to be a puppet for your whims. Find someone else to dance your bloody tune."

"Maybe I should take you and your dragon and dump you back in the fucking desert." The king growled, shaking his head. "All you're proving to be is a damned headache. Don't make me regret my decision to promote you."

"You can have the rank back, I don't want it. And sure, stick me in the damned desert, it'd be better than this shit." Jarvan shot back, acidly. The king's face blanked for a few moments before he scowled.

"Enough. I have business to attend to. I've entertained your foolishness long enough." The king said, shaking his head. "I'm placing you under house arrest for the safety of you and those around you. You two," He pointed to Lee and Delancey. "Escort my son to his quarters and keep him there under armed guard until further notice. Xin, have an armed guard arranged to be posted on his quarters twenty-four-seven."

"Yes, your majesty." Xin said, bowing his head before shooting an exasperated glance at the prince. Jarvan ignored him, standing defiantly by.

"Sir..." Delancey said hesitantly. A single glance from the king's stormy eyed gaze was enough to silence her qualms and she gulped, saluting.

"Get this idiot out of my sight!" The king waved him away and then stormed off, the utterly silent crowd of soldiers and staff parting to let him though. Delancey glanced at Lee and frowned, but turned to the prince and shook her head. She had a duty to perform. She stepped up to her former commander and took him by the arm.

"This way, sir." She said tersely, the anger still riding high in her voice. Jarvan glared angrily at her, yanking his arm from her hand and then stomping off towards his suite of rooms with a sneer of contempt. Delancey and Lee followed after him, glaring at the soldiers who watched them with wide eyes and open mouths.


	10. Chapter 9: Broken

The clicking of heels on stone told Delancey of someone's approach long before she could see anyone coming around the curved corridor. She straightened up and let her hand settle on the blade strapped to her hip.

"Eyes up, at attention." She barked quietly. Across the set of double doors, a corporal clad in full armor snapped to attention, his lance held at the regulation twenty degree angle in his left hand, the tip pointing away from the door. Delancey didn't know his name, and right now she didn't care.

The echo finally starting to die down as it dissolved into two pairs of heels, the tall and elegant frame of Catherine Lightshield turning the corner as she stepped into view, moving along the corridor. Behind her, the black and white uniform of a maid followed in her wake, the glasses and blue eyes of Noel coming into view from behind her as she slowed to a stop in front of the doors. Lady Catherine reached towards the handle of the door, but the corporal slid the lance across his body and held it in front of the door.

"Apologies, ma'am!" He barked. "The prince has been allowed no visitation rights while under house arrest. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"But I simply want to visit my son." Lady Catherine said, a frown marring her face. Delancey frowned as little wrinkles formed on Lady Catherine's face, but she sighed softly and nodded. "I understand your orders, young man, but can you not allow a mother to visit her only child after over two years of his absence?"

The corporal hesitated for a few moments but he shook his armored helm in the end. "Ma'am, I'm sorry but-..."

"You will have you remain under armed guard." Delancey said, opening the door. "I hope you do not mind, but we must maintain a solid security screen at all times."

"I understand..." Catherine said softly, nodding. "Thank you." Delancey nodded curtly and pushed the door open, allowing Lady Catherine and Noel to enter the outermost room of Jarvan's suite. Inside, another guard was posted at the closed doors to the study, and Lee sat on the edge of the table, his arms crossed over his chest and a thoughtful frown on his face. He looked up and stood as Lady Catherine approached.

He raised a hand to keep her from coming any closer. "Sorry, ma'am you can't-..."

"Drop it, Lee." Delancey growled. Lee shot her a questioning glance but Delancey shook her head and Lee snapped his mouth shut. "Private, take the post outside the doors and await further orders."

"But sergeant..." The solider began to protest but Delancey's glare silenced his qualms. He snapped off a brisk salute and then stepped around Delancey and the queen, heading out the door. As soon as they closed behind him, Delancey's shoulders sunk and she shook her head.

"How's he doing, Lee?" She asked, gesturing to the door.

"Well the banging and crashing stopped about half an hour ago." The sergeant said with a dark frown. "But I'm honestly afraid about what happened in there. The silence is more ominous than the sounds of destruction."

"Destruction?" Lady Catherine repeated, worry showing in the lines on her face. "What happened?"

"Well..." Lee said hesitantly. He traded a glance with Delancey and set his jaw.

"I don't think I've ever heard the prince this angry, ma'am." Delancey said cautiously. "He was in a fit about the encounter with the king this morning and he hasn't gotten over himself quite yet. He... uh, well, he swung at the king when he was … ah, _provoked_ by the king. While I don't think he will face the normal punishment, it is still a very serious crime he has committed."

"He swung at Trey?" Catherine said, covering her mouth with a hand, trying to hide the shock she felt. "He's not to be executed, is he?" She said hurriedly.

"No, no, of course not." Delancey said, trying to calm the woman down. "We have yet to hear of any punishment being levied yet, but we were ordered to keep him here, no visitors, no contact, no food, nothing."

"That's barbaric." Catherine said, aghast.

"Orders, ma'am." Lee said, tightly.

"I would like to see my son, now." Catherine said, taking a deep breath as she pulled her cloak tighter around her. The chill of the room was noticeable, and the fireplace lay empty and dormant.

"Ma'am, I can't allow that." Lee said, frowning, moving to stop her as she approached the door to Jarvan's study.

"I'll see to it you're thrown in the dungeons, sergeant." Catherine said softly. Though there was no anger or threat in her voice, the underlying menace was more than enough to send ice coursing up Delancey's spine. She shivered as the queen stood up and glared at Lee.

"And the king would see my head removed from my shoulders otherwise, milady." Lee said, trying to keep his composure under her withering glare.

"I shall deal with the consequences later, now open this damnable door!" The queen snapped. Lee's mouth feel open and it took him several seconds to close it and wipe the stupid look off his face. He frowned and raised his arms before him apologetically.

"Ma'am..." Lee tried to protest again.

"Just open the door, Lee." Delancey said, shaking her head. "She's not going to listen to two lowly sergeants. Anger crossed Lee's face but he groaned and waved the other sergeant off.

"Fine, but this is on your head, Del." Lee bit back. Delancey only rolled her eyes and then unlocked the door using a key on her belt. She pulled the door open and allowed the queen to enter. Delancey waited for Noel to enter as well, but the maid didn't not move, merely clasping her hands in front of her, content to wait in the outer room. Delancey shrugged. She followed the queen into the room and locked the door behind her, but when she turned around, she was not ready for what she saw, her mouth hanging ajar.

Books and tomes were strewn everywhere, pages and papers laying crumpled and ripped across the room. Sheets of parchment were tossed everywhere like a thick blanket of snow, and ink stained more than a few of the pages, a splatter pattern leading up the wall to the ceiling. An entire book case had been ripped from the wall, and a neat, fist shaped hole marked the wall. The stone behind the drywall was bloody, and splatters of blood marked several other indentations in the wall. Shattered glass and a number of broken pieces from picture frames stuck from the walls at odd angles. Only the subtle flicker of light from a wall lamp that had been spared the destruction lit the room. Silhouetted by the darkness of the room and the light that shown through the windows, Jarvan was shrouded in darkness. His hair was unkempt and he shifted slightly, the upturned desk creaking as he lowered an armored boot to the ground from atop one leg.

"Oh my god..." Delancey said softly, looking around the room. Only hours before she had woken up in a chair that now sat shattered and broken in front of the fireplace. The heavy wooden table was broken clean in half, and the books around the room formed an impenetrable ocean of clutter that covered the floor.

"Who goes there?" The prince croaked, his voice broken.

"Jarvan, I..." Catherine begin to say but the prince pulled himself to his feet and turned, moving slowly through the sea of destruction to the window, letting his back face the room.

"What can I help you with, Lady Catherine?" Jarvan said, his voice was dull and flat, void of life or emotion. There was no anger or sadness. Simply nothing.

"I came to check on you..." She said softly, her eyes wide as she surveyed the destruction. Her voice was quiet and reverent, the awe evident in her voice. "I wanted to see how my son was doing after this morning."

"I am well." Jarvan said, his voice still void of emotion.

"This is hardly well, my son..." Catherine said, looking over the destruction. "If you would like to talk about it, I could listen and help?"

"What is there to listen and help with?" Jarvan said quietly. "I've calmed myself after my shameful outbursts this morning. I realized the error of my ways."

"Jarvan..." Catherine said softly, tears beginning to well in her eyes. She wiped them away with the sleeve of her dress before they could roll free, trying to put on a brave face. "I suppose this mess needs to be cleaned up, does it not?" Catherine said aloud, trying to hide the pain she felt with a smile.

"Ma'am, I can't let you stay but so long..." Delancey said gently.

"It won't take me but a few moments." Catherine said, nodding, turning away from her son. Delancey could see her hands shaking with grief though. She was obviously rattled much more than she wanted to let on. "It's been a while but I believe I remember the charm." She raised her hands in front of her and closed her eyes, the quaking becoming more controlled. Her lips moved as if she were chanting an incantation. She began to glow with golden light and wind began to whip around her, gusting paper into the air as if it caught in a tornado. Catherine's long brown hair flared in the air above her, battered and whipped about by the wind as tomes and paper began to dance through the air.

"Ma'am..." Delancey began to say, taking a half step backwards, but she nearly slipped and fell as a tome she had stepped on was tugged from beneath her feet. She yelped and jumped as tomes and papers whizzed past her head. The table began to violently shake and then pulled itself together, the sound of ripping wood filling the air, creaking and cracking echoing about as it mended itself. The chair shook for a few seconds and then bounced onto it's feet, meeting the snapped legs in the air and then settling on the ground with a clatter. Picture frames mended and glass seemed to coalesce into solid sheets, flying through the air to where they had originally hung on the walls. The holes in the wall seemed to simply puff out to form a solid surface and the blood disappeared. The shelf settled back into its place against the wall and books started crashing onto the shelves one by one, in rapid succession. Tomes began to neatly pile up and ripped pages slipped back into place, the seams reaching out and knitting together where they had been ripped. They formed neat stacks as spilled ink drained from the pages and then flowed back into its bottle like a glossy ribbon. The desk tipped up onto its feet and crashed down with a muted thud. The contents of the top of the desk slid down like birds landing on the beach as the wind finally began to die.

Silence filled the room.

"That's much better." Catherine said as she moved towards the wall and turned on another hextech lantern, letting the soft orange light flicker about the room, mixing with the dim light of the overcast sky. She paused next to a picture frame and adjusted it slightly so it was level again. "Now, dear, won't you please come over here and let me take a look at your hand?"

"Why?" Jarvan said softly.

"It's bleeding still." Catherine said as gently as possible. "I would just like to take a look at it." She moved to a corner of the table and picked up some papers and set them aside, clearing a bit of space.

"I'll fetch some medical equipment, milady." Delancey said, but the queen waved her aside.

"That won't be necessary, but thank you." The queen said, giving Delancey a warm smile. "Please Jarvan, if nothing else, just let me take a look at your hand." He remained despondent for a few moments before he turned and sat down at the table, laying his hand out for Catherine to see. She sucked in a breath and held it, blackened blood struggling to scab across his smashed knuckles. The wounds were red and bloody, and it looked as if several knuckles had been completely broken. "How are you feeling, Jarvan?" Catherine said as she carefully examined the wounded hand. He flinched when she tried to gingerly bend one of his fingers.

"Numb." Jarvan said quietly, not going any further into his state of being at the moment. Catherine could see that inside, Jarvan was torn up about something, and she suspected that it was the fact the king was forcing him to choose between his love and the woman he held dear and his family obligations and country. She sighed as she gently laid her son's hand upon the table. She held her hands above his and closed her eyes, her lips moving again in a silent incantation.

"You know that your father and I love you very much, correct?" Catherine said as a soft green glow began to emanate from her hands, falling upon Jarvan's hand like a blanket of green mist. The bloodied hand began to bubble and foam and pain played across Jarvan face. "I'm sorry, I haven't used healing magic in many years... I may be a bit rusty."

Jarvan said nothing, a thousand yard stare shooting straight over her head.

Catherine felt a pang on grief in her heart, but she push on. "Your father only wants what is best for you. He cares deeply about you... he wants you to be happy."

"He cares about his legacy and his nation." Jarvan said dully, closing his eyes and exhaling sharply as the wound on the first knuckle closed, and the bone shifted back into place. "He has no place in his life, heart, or nation for a son who doesn't follow orders or fit his plans. He doesn't know the meaning of happiness."

"That's not true." Catherine said, still having to concentrate on her healing. She could feel tears welling in her eyes but she did her best to blink them away. "He cares about you more than you know."

"He has a wonderful way of showing it, then." Jarvan said, a bit of venom sliding into his voice. Catherine's fingers twitched as the comment cut deep in her heart. Her hands began to shake.

"He doesn't know how to show it..." Catherine said softly, her voice beginning to waver. "But he cares about you more than anyone else in the world, Jarvan. He loves you with all of his heart and he wants to help you. He wants to prepare you for what is to come, so you can be happy in life."

"He seems content making sure I'm as miserable as possible." Jarvan said, the venom gone again, his voice despondent and hollow.

"What makes you happy then?" Catherine said softly, exhaling heavily, her breathing a bit strained as she lowered her hand to sit on Jarvan's healed hand. "What is it you want?"

"I want Shyvana." Jarvan said, slipping his hand out of her grasp and standing up. "He refuses her because of what she was, not of who she is. He is content to separate us and torment me, to try and use her to bend me to his will. He wants me to be the perfect little prince. Loyal, smart, and obedient." Jarvan clenched his fists. "That part of me died when I led one hundred and thirty-nine men and women to their deaths. Blind ambition and stupidity cost me the innocence of my humanity, and I refuse to view soldiers as pawns like the king does."

"Jarvan..." She said softly.

"If he wanted another animal, a meat grinder to simply chew up Noxians and Demacians and spit out propaganda, he should have looked somewhere else." Jarvan said angrily. "I want to do good by at least one person in my life. I can't deal with the thought of throwing more lives away into that meat grinder. I refuse to turn the crank that chews them up... I'd rather die then submit Shyvana to a fate like that."

Catherine worked her jaw for a moment, searching for something to say. "Jarvan, I-..."

"If you wouldn't mind, mother, I'd like some time alone please." Jarvan said, stepping up to the window.

"Very well." Catherine said, nodding, her hands still quaking. She stood up and moved to the door, hesitating. "I love you, Jarvan."

He stood looking out the window, his hands clasped behind his back, and remained silent.

"This way, ma'am." Delancey said softly, opening the door for her.

"Thank you, sergeant." Lady Catherine said heavily. She paused in the outer room, but didn't stay long.

"Ready, milady?" Noel said with a soft voice, her tone neutral.

"Yes, Noel." Lady Catherine nodded, letting the maid lead her to the door. Delancey escorted them out. When the sergeant returned to the room, she sighed heavily and shook her head.

"How'd things go in there?" Lee asked glancing over his shoulder towards the door.

"Well I don't think things got any worse, but I don't think they really improved either." Delancey shrugged. "I get the sinking feeling that the royal family is a bit more dysfunctional that appearances would have us believe. And Jarvan seems to have all but shut down emotionally."

"I don't think any royal family was ever really forthcoming about their issues." Lee said shrugging. "My parents didn't exactly approve of many of my life choices, I can bet on how hard the prince must have it with his father running an entire country."

Delancey snorted. "You feel sorry for him? That's a first."

"I mean..." Lee's voice trailed off and he sighed. "Yeah, I can understand what he's going through to an extent. My parents didn't approve of me bringing guys home. They wanted me to get an education that they scraped together enough just to get me through, and in return they wanted me to take care of them and give them grandchildren. Well, choosing to be a career soldier doesn't pay much and being gay doesn't exactly prove indicative of children. Jarvan's looking at something similar, but he's under the microscope of the entire world because he's a crown prince."

"And here I though my rebellious phase was bad." Delancey said, shaking her head. "Brought home a few delinquent boyfriends, died my hair odd colors, joined the army, but in retrospect I was a good kid." She said laughing. "Not something I ever expected to say."

"Don't kid yourself, Del." Lee said with a thin grin. "You're a fucking angel."

She shrugged and sighed. "I think Jarvan is having a bad time though. He really seems shaken up by what happened this morning." She clenched her fists. "I can't blame him though, to think his own father would says something like that..."

"He's a prince, Del." Lee said, shaking his head. "He's not like us. He's got so much more he has to worry about, and if he's too obsessed with his dragoness companion, well, what does that say about what'll happen when he comes to power?"

"I guess..." Delancey said, shaking her head, blue forelocks bouncing around. "I would socked that old bastard in the jaw something fierce if I'd been able to, though."

"If you do, just let me know so I know to send some flowers to your funeral." Lee said shaking his head. "Jarvan's getting off easy though. Xin Zhao stopped him before he managed to get to the king If he'd actually made contact, he'd probably be facing a tribunal right about now, and who knows what would have happened after that."

"Yeah, I guess." Delancey said, shaking her head. "I just don't get it though. Why is this such a big deal, this business with the dragon girl?"

"There are so many different things, not least of which could be any number of security issues." Lee said shaking his head and leaning heavily on the corner of the desk. "There are only two people alive right now that know who she is, and that's the prince, who seems madly in love with her, and the corporal who is now the only remnant of the princes old company. While I feel sympathy for the prince, I can't fault the king for being suspicious about it." He pushed himself up and moved to where a massive portrait of Jarvan and his mother and father hung on the wall. The prince was probably only ten or eleven in the picture. "He was gone for so long after a number of traumatic experiences. I wouldn't be surprised if the prince is suffering from depression, PTSD, shellshock..." Lee's voice tapered off.

"So what do we do, then?" Delancey asked, frowning.

"Nothing at the moment." Lee said, holding up a hand to forestall any comments. "We give them time to work their issues out. Jarvan isn't down and out yet, but I think he's starting to realize he can't fight some things head on. The queen showing up here tells me that she sees it too, and while I don't know what was said in the room, I think the course of action to fixing this situation has already begun to play itself out." He shrugged.

"I hope things work themselves out." Delancey said, shaking her head. "I don't like being stuck in this position."

"Me either." Lee said nodding. He frowned as he glanced towards the door. "Unfortunately, only time will tell."

* * *

"Noel, do you think me a bad parent?" Catherine paused at the top of the stairs, the maid stopping just behind her.

"Ma'am?" Noel said tepidly. The queen turned to face her, a frown marring her face, the pain she wore exaggerating her age.

"I don't know what to do right now." Catherine said softly. "When we had Jarvan, I was so much busier with the council politics, with helping Trey run the country and trying to control relations within the Institute of War. I let—no, I asked you to help me raise Jarvan, but in the end I barely had anything to do with his upbringing." She paused and shook her head. "I feed so useless even now, I don't know how to help my own son."

"Ma'am, it might not be about helping him directly." Noel said softly. "But being there for Jarvan if he needs you, showing support of his feelings and trusting in him. That can show that you care about him as much as any parent would care about her children."

"I guess." Catherine said hesitantly, looking to the ground. Her eyes sought the ground as if it had answers, but she took a deep breath and sighed. "I'd like for you to set up a meeting with Shyvana, please Noel."

"Ma'am?" The maid raised an eyebrow, her glasses shimmering.

"I'd like the chance to meet the woman my son is so enamored with." Catherine said, pausing momentarily. "Something casual, and soon if possible."

"I'll get right on it, ma'am." Noel said bowing. "If you'll excuse me?"

"Of course, Noel." Lady Catherine said, nodding. "Thank you." The maid disappeared down the steps, her heals clicking behind her as she made her off to carry out the queen's request. Lady Catherine started to take a step down, but paused, looking over her shoulder, down the corridor towards her son's quarters. She leaned heavily against the wall, and felt a heavy weight upon her shoulders. She tried to keep her footing but she slowly sunk towards the ground, tears clouding her eyes.

"I am sorry, Jarvan." Catherine said quietly as sobs began to shake her shoulder. "I am so sorry... I hope you can forgive your father and I for what we have done..."


	11. Chapter 10: Exhibition

"So, LT, what exactly are we doing out here in the middle of the palace grounds?" One of the Demacian soldiers growled, sitting up from where the better part of the platoon was lazing around, sitting on the ground, spread out around a large open area. Down at the bottom of the large hill that sloped towards the bay, but still high above the sea, the area was open, an odd looking structure behind them and a large podium standing off to one side. Snow covered everything except where it had been trodden down where the makeshift 'building' had been put together.

"Eyes up, ladies and gentlemen." Vorscham growled as he strode over from where he had been speaking with another officer. He growled as he watched the platoon get slowly to their feet. He waited until the entire unit was standing before he cleared his throat. "Today we will be running building clearing exercises."

A murmur of grumbling passed through the troops. "Building clearing? What the hell are we doing that for?"

"Can it, girl scouts, I don't want to hear any of your bullshit right now." Vorscham barked, putting his fists on his hips as he looked around the group. "We've got the big shots coming down for a demonstration regarding the readiness and capabilities of the rotational company were the palace to be besieged. They want to test our reactions and readiness levels to an adverse situation. That is why you pansies are here. Major Seymour has seen it fit to volunteer—ask me to lead you twits in the demonstration for our glorious leader and a number of guests of his choosing."

Another wave of chatter passed through the men and women of second platoon, Victoria Company of the First Demacian Royal Guards Battalion. "Volunteered? Fucking Seymour."

"I said shove the chatter, ladies!" He waited just a brief moment for the chatter to die. "We're going to split up into three squads for the exercise: Azure, Gold and Ivory. Bruno has command of Azure, Horrace has Gold and Ivory goes to Kelly. With each clearing, you will be going in blind, combined arms. There will be _bandit outlaws_ in the building and you're going to need to clear them out as fast as possible. The squad that does this the fastest gets two days of leave. Be wary of any shenanigans that Seymour may have put in place, specifically arcane and traditional booby-traps."

"Shenanigans he says?" One of the men of Azure Squad joked, slapping a buddy on the shoulder. "I wonder what sort of Shenanigans Seymour could bring out..."

"Well our shenanigans are cheeky and fun." One of the members of the same squad said, shrugging.

"Seymour's Shenanigans are cruel and tragic." Another man from Azure said, nodding sagely.

"Which makes them not Shenanigans at all, really." An Azure woman said, chuckling softly.

"_Evil Shenanigans_!" The first man said, with a goofy accent.

"I swear to god!" Vorscham snarled, a blood vessel pulsing on his forehead. "I will bludgeon the next motherfucker who says shenanigans with my sheath!" A moment of silence followed as Vorscham glared down at his platoon.

The man who had faked the accent let a smile creep onto his face. "Hey Jimmy! What's the name of that pub you like, you know, the one with all the goofy shit on the walls and the mozzarella sticks?"

"You mean Shenanigan's?" A faceless voice called from somewhere in the back of Ivory team.

"Oh shit!" There was a hearty round of laughter and egging on as one of the men from Azure company tried to offer his sheath to Lieutenant Vorscham.

"Put those away!" Vorscham snarled.

"Why we're out this far then, LT?" A soldier growled as the platoon calmed down amid the good natured laughing and ribbing that Jimmy received. "How exactly are we going to practice a siege against the palace down here? Shouldn't we be up at the palace for that?"

"Can your crap, shitbirds, and I'll explain it." Vorscham growled, shaking his head. He frowned and looked around the group as some grumbling faded through the area, but silence finally fell. "Good. Our unit was _selected_ by the king to give a demonstration of the speed and strength of the Demacian forces in reaction to a hostile takeover of a structure or building within the city, specifically the palace, hence why you see the building behind you. It is a prefabricated structure that will simulate a floor layout. You'll notice the roof is glass. That is for the spectators to see how efficient and fearless you are. Be careful of this glass. While impact resistant, you are permitted to use assault-grade magic, and will be facing similar levels in the form of resistance. Be careful with your aim. There will be dignitaries from Piltover and Ionia who are interested in our Military tactics visiting, they are our main audience. We'll be exercising the very finest of Demacian precision and safety." He paused, waiting for questions. "No questions? Good. Split up by squad, Azure, Gold and Ivory squads on the line, in that order. Check your gear, keep it tight, and report any problems with equipment to Gunny Juniper BEFORE the exercise begins. Dismissed."

The group broke up by squad, each squad leader moving their unit off to talk about tactics and to designate positions for each member of the squad, leaving Shyvana standing off to one side of the muddy, open area. She glanced around, frowning slightly before sighing heavily, looking down at the muddy snow under foot. She stepped up to Lieutenant Vorscham who was talking with Gunny Juniper.

"Got anything special planned sir? Need me to scrounge anything up?" Alicia crossed her arms over her chest and smiled at Shyvana as she approached, but Vorscham's dark gaze froze her and drained her happiness from her expression.

"Nothing at the moment." Vorscham said, matching Alicia's salute. "Dismissed." Alicia spun on her heel and headed off to distribute the last few things each squad would need, including basic floor plans of the building. Shyvana could tell that Alicia's pace was much slower than her normal, bouncy rate that matched her attitude. She glanced worriedly over her shoulder at Shyvana, but the dragoness gave her a brave smile. Vorscham turned back to Shyvana. "What can I do for you, specialist?"

"What Squad shall I be attached to for this exercise, sir?" Shyvana asked, standing at parade rest.

"None." Vorscham said, turning away. "I want you by my side for now."

"Sir?" Shyvana said hesitantly.

"I don't want any incidents with this bloody show and tell session." He growled, shaking his head. "There is too much as risk, and I have enough shit to concern myself with at the moment. I don't need you blowing something up in the meantime."

Shyvana clenched her fists but simply nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Vorscham growled. "For now, you are a shadow. Stick with me, but don't say anything."

"Sir." She saluted and then dropped it.

"Positions, ladies and gents, we've got guests!" Vorscham shouted. The platoon turned and looked, watching as a small party approached down the hill towards the podium.

Shyvana could see the king leading the way, a number of guards around him, a few Demacian officers, and then two women who she didn't recognize. One was dressed in a officious looking purple overcoat and a matching top hat, her long, chestnut brown hair spilling over her shoulders. She looked stern but polite, her attire pretty but odd compared to most clothing styles that Shyvana had ever seen. The other was a much sterner looking woman, slightly taller, and the small gap that the others all gave her spoke of a mix of respect and fear of the woman. Even from where she stood, Shyvana could tell she had hard eyes that matched her frown as the teal orbs glanced about the area, canvasing and taking in new surroundings. She had shimmering black hair, but the way it had an eerie blue sheen when the light hit it wasn't the strangest thing about her. Floating just behind and above her, something glimmering bounced along with her strides, twitching occasionally, similar to a cat's tail. Shyvana watched the many pointed, floating crest with interest as the Demacian troops finished milling about, lining up by squad around the building, each waiting their turn.

"And now a demonstration by my own Royal Guard Battalion." The king said, gesturing towards the soldiers. "Here we have a special building set up to allow us to view their progress as they expertly assault an enemy fortified structure."

"That's not an exceedingly difficult task, your highness." The woman in the top hat said, frowning, crossing her arms over her chest.

"If I may, your highness?" Major Seymour stepped forth from the side and looked to the king.

"This is Major James Seymour, the commander of Victoria company. His unit is currently on rotation with the Palace guard for training. It's his men that will be running through the exercise today." The king gestured to the thin man, his pasty skin a bit gaunt over his sharp cheekbones. He was lanky and the armor he wore hardly seemed to fit this image. His hair was slicked back and beady eyes darted around. Though he frowned, the king gestured for the major to continue.

"Madame Sheriff of Piltover, despite your _extensive_ list of apprehensions and the amazingly clean history of Piltover under your protection, it's not just the fact they can clear the building, it's how fast they clear it. Demacia, despite the beauty and grace we value in our city, value different ideals when it comes to our military tactics. My unit here is going to show how our motto of 'shock and awe' defines the way our forces sweep in a take the enemies by surprise, bringing the hammer down to crush the opposition in a single blow before they have a chance to form any sort of resistance." The major said confidently. "How long would it take your deputies to clear out a structure such as this?"

The sheriff raised her eyebrow, the golden star gleaming on the lapel of her coat. "A few minutes, I suppose." She frowned. "Though there are many other circumstances to take into consideration for an operation like this. For example, if there were civilians in danger within, it would be much more difficult to deal with; a standard breach and clear procedure would likely end in the loss of life. I would probably put marksmen in place to pick off anyone who put others in danger and then try to talk down those holed up inside."

"But what if they were threatening to set off a bomb?" The major said, a small smile playing at his lips as he ran a hand over his hair to smooth it down. "Our troops are able to push through in just a fraction of the time other units can attempt. My force reacts faster, hits harder, and hits more often due to the rigorous training and practice regimes they adhere to under my command. This exercise is only one of the many different things that our troops are drilled in, but this is something that is very flexible, adaptable to hundreds of situations. In this case, the simulated hostiles have taken over a structure and need to be quickly cleared out to allow our forces to advance."

"And they are going to assault a building with a bomb inside to clear it out?" The other woman said. "It hardly seems to be the best answer to a bad situation."

"Please, humor this poor officer for trying to put it in better perspective." The major said, bowing slightly. "Madame Ambassador, I didn't mean to create a bad setting, but the execution will be more than worth it. Though we lack the _grace_ that the warriors of Ionia are renowned for, we are more than efficient and swift fighters here in Demacia."

"Thank you, major." The king said, cutting the officer off before he could continue. "We'll be turning the demonstration over to one of the Major's subordinates; his platoon was chosen at random for the exercise."

"Very well, your highness." The woman said, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "And Major, please excuse my questions, I didn't mean to cause any trouble with my lack of _grace."_

"It is quite alright." The king said with a quick nod, cutting the major off before he could open his mouth and make more of an ass out of himself. The king sighed internally, but turned to where Vorscham stood below at parade rest. "Lieutenant?"

"Sir." He snapped off a quick salute and then spun to face his troops. "Azure squad, to the line"

"Move, move, move!" Bruno bellowed. His unit moved up like a single body, the two parallel lines rotating and hitting the wall with enough force to shake the entire building. "Stack up!" The soldiers compressed towards the door, the two closest turning their back to the door. "Prep for penetration!" Bruno barked. The third man on the right side of the door stepped out, spun, and pulled a metal plate that hung from his pack, and pushed it to the door, close to the lock and handle.

"The squads with be running a time trial to give them a bit of competitive motivation." The king said with a smile. "Whenever you're ready, Lieutenant."

"Yes sir." Vorscham said, saluting. He pulled a small time tracking device from his belt and shook it. It began to shimmer and little numbers glowed to life above it. "Azure, you are clear to initiate!"

"Roger sir!" Bruno barked, checking over his people. "Breach, breach, breach!" The timer started as the command came. The fizzle and the sharp report of a magic explosion shattered the door inwards, sending the solider sliding backwards a few feet in the mud. He dropped the steaming metal plate as the first two knights, in full armor, slammed through the remains of the door and swept inside, taking the first two targets with swings of their swords, lopping the top half of the 'enemies' off. The wooden posts fell over, the paper targets falling away.

"Move in!" Bruno said, following the soldiers in. "Fireteam Jaeger, right side, Fireteam Kampfer, left!" The squad split as they moved through the building at a thundering pace, sometimes simply bowling through walls rather than going around corners. The two lead soldiers, clad in hulking, lumbering armor simply thundered through the gauntlet, the booby traps barely scratching the surface of their armor. Though crude and destructive, the tactic was brutally efficient and the forces that swept in behind the two wrecking balls were able to easily clean up the targets that were left over. The 'enemies' fell rapidly, and as a minute approached on the clock, the last bang of a breaching charge spread smoke and debris in the back room. Soldiers poured in, cutting down the foes with impunity.

"Clear!" The call echoed from within, and Vorscham hit the timer.

"Fifty-seven seconds, and all thirty targets taken out." Vorscham reported.

"That was fairly impressive, your highness." The Ionian Ambassador said nodding, a small smile on her face. "But do you think your other squads can beat the time?"

"Indeed, I'm curious if they'll use the same rush tactics." The sheriff of Piltover mused.

"Of course." The king said, nodding and gesturing for Vorscham to continue. "Up next is Gold Squad."

The two subsequent squads, Gold and Ivory, went about as well as the Azure team's breach and clear. Gold used a similar tactic to Azure, but instead of soldiers in heavy armor, they used two large shield bearers to muscle through and form a sort of pseudo-phalanx to protect the soldiers who followed. Though decidedly safer, it was also a decent amount slower, considering some of the maneuvering it took to get the shields around obstacles in the building. The sheriff had preferred this method because it was fairly defensive and caused the least amount of damage, but the clumsy shields seemed to bore the ambassador. Ivory mixed things up by putting smaller breaching teams around the perimeter to go in windows, but a moment of confusion when they tried unsuccessfully to disarm a trap cost them the first place spot. The Ionian Ambassador had been amused with their tactics and ingenuity, and had bargained they had lost a full ten seconds because of the one moment of confusion. The times were comparable but Azure team's brute force attack had the best clear speed by about ten seconds.

"And that completes the demonstration, your majesty." Vorscham said, snapping off a quick salute. "As you can see, our forces are all highly capable and extremely disciplined, while not limited in their tactical thinking or improvisation in a bad situation. They are very capable of independent action and even in the worst of situations, they are capable of crushing any resistance."

"Very good, lieutenant." The king said, eying the man's scar for a moment as he turned to the major. "My compliments on your platoon, major, their performance was smooth and well executed."

"Thank you, sire." Major Seymour said, bowing gracefully. "I keep my company at peek performance levels, consistently ensuring the absolute best. Their times certainly reflected this capability."

"I could done it quicker." Shyvana muttered to herself as she rolled her eyes as what the major said. Vorscham glanced at her and frowned, but said nothing. The sheriff of Piltover seemed to have heard though and met Shyvana's gaze for a brief moment.

"A question for the Major, King Jarvan." The diplomat from Piltover said with a a nod of the head. Her long brown hair fell into her eyes, and she had to brush it out of her face, tucking the strands behind her ear.

"Of course, Sheriff." The king said, slightly surprised. Shyvana watched his eyes change from a menacing dark blue to a placid icy color before the sheriff could notice. "Please, what is your question?"

The sheriff of Piltover looked down and locked gazes with Shyvana for a brief moment. "Major, the young woman there... she doesn't seem to be an officer. Why was she excluded from the actions? It didn't seem as though any of the assault teams were understrength."

A flash of concern and danger flashed over Seymour's face. "Well, uh..."

"This is a recent addition to the unit, Madame Sheriff." Vorscham said firmly, heading the problem off before it could manifest for the major to complicate. "She has yet to have a chance to be integrated to one of the squads of second platoon of Victoria Company, and as such, her ah... special capabilities are reserved for more... _unique_ missions than this." Shyvana glanced at Vorscham, clenching her fists.

_In three days of training, I've out run, out fought and stomped every challenge you've thrown at me, Vorscham. _Shyvana clenched her teeth and had to take several deep breaths to calm herself as she felt her hair begin to bounce in the heat that poured from her body.

"Unique talents?" The Ionian Ambassador said, raising an eyebrow. "I don't mean to sound so... _barbaric_, but would these special abilities be something that could benefit Ionia's rebuilding or possible resistance? With the Noxian-Ionian rematch coming up so soon, we may be calling upon Demacia to assist if things go... _poorly._.."

"And you, Ambassador, considering what is on the line, for you to come here with the battle approaching so soon must mean there is something you would wish of Demacia." The king said amicably. "You don't mean to go to war if the rematch fails, do you?"

The floating crest behind her shuddered, the metal twitching as if it were irritated as something dangerous flashed in her eyes. She smoothed a lock of black hair along the side of her chest, freeing it from where it had caught on her red and silver armor. Her hair had an eerie blue sheen too it that shimmered when the light hit it right. "Your majesty, I merely am curious about the strengths of Demacia and her champions were the situation in Ionia or Kalamanda to... _escalate._"

"You say she has special capabilities." The sheriff of Piltover said, nodding in conjunction with the ambassador of Ionia. "Perhaps a demonstrationcould be arranged?"

The king looked hesitant, but a small smile settled on his face. "Very well." He nodded finally. "Shyvana, if you could demonstrate what it is you are?"

"What she is?" The Piltoverian and Ionian representatives said in tandem, exchanging glances.

"I'm not simply an animal for you to showcase when you want." Shyvana snarled, turning towards the building with a frown. "But if I gets me closer to my goal I shall oblige." She muttered under her breath.

"I..." The king blinked several times but was left speechless.

"Lieutenant, the goal was to clear the building as quickly as possible, correct?" Shyvana said, a frown marring her face as her hair began to billow around her. She pulled the winter cloak off of her shoulders and gently laid it on the ground, kicking off the armored grieves and pulling snaps and straps free. Her armor clattered to the ground around her and she tossed it into a pile near the cloak. As she stepped into the snow, it began to steam around her feet

"Correct..." Vorscham said, a look of surprise on his face.

"No armor at all?" The Ionian said, the crest nearly quivering in excitement.

"My skin is thicker than you think." Shyvana said, pausing and looking over her shoulder, her hair now standing vertically on end, streaming wildly as it was carried up by the rising heat the poured from her body. "Your majesty, in the supposed situation that was given to the squads by the major, were there any survivors inside that needed to be protected?"

"Well..." The king said, frowning, still trying to figure out what she was planning. He glanced at major who simply shrugged. "No..."

"Good." Shyvana said as a grin settled on her face. She closed her eyes for a moment and let out a deep breath, steam jetting from her nostrils. She grasped at her head and shrunk down a bit, snarling as pain played across her face. Horns burst from her skull, extending and curving back, each one gleaming and razor sharp at the tip. Shyvana stood up straight and then looked over her shoulder at the ambassadors and the king, diamond shaped pupils gleaming. "Watch closely, now." Fire exploded around her and then a billowing cloud of steam erupted, casting an eerie haze over the area, obscuring all vision.

"What... what was that?" The sheriff said, waving the steam from her face. She leaned on the railing of the podium, trying to peer through the steam. "Those eyes and horns... is she some kind of demon?"

"I don't know." The Ionian Ambassador said, coughing as the crest continued to quiver. "Your highness... just what is it you're playing at? What was—is she?"

"This wasn't exactly planned in advance, Ambassador." The king said, sighing. The ground shook beneath their feet, the entire podium shaking slightly. "So please, try to remain calm."

"What was that?" The sheriff gasped, her arm jumping to her shoulder, grasping for a weapon, but finding nothing. She started to kneel but the king gestured for her to calm herself, holding onto the railing as the ground reverberated every few seconds.

"I present to you... Shyvana, the half-dragon." The king said, gesturing to the ground before them.

Rising out of the steam was the scaly hide and vicious claws of a dragon. Leathery skin was covered in places with armored scales, the glossy armor gleaming against the white snow. A mane of ruby red hair lined the dragon's back and massive wings quivered, folded back out of the way, her massive claws cutting deep furrows in the ground as she took several steps forward. Powerful hind legs lifted her up till her head was level with the podium, her magenta eyes blinking as she turned, diamond pupils dilating slightly as she looked at the sheriff and then the ambassador.

"Goddess above..." The ambassador said, the metal crest quivering violently behind her. She took a half a step backwards. "A dragon..."

"And she fights for you?" The sheriff said uneasily, pulling herself to her feet. The dragon's gaze fell onto her, and she crossed her arms over her chest, backing away slowly till the ran into the railing behind her. "She won't... attack?"

"Hardly." Shyvana rumbled. The sheriff started and looked surprised, but she straightened herself up, trying to regain some of her dignity. She straightened her top hat on her head.

"She does fight for me." The king said firmly. Shyvana moved her head closer to him, fitting him with a glare as two jets of steam escaped her nostrils menacingly, her diamond pupils slimming as she growled. The king frowned but sighed. "She fights for my son, the prince, more accurately. He recruited her not too long ago and she is being integrated into our forces cautiously. We've not had a properly place for her to be assigned, but Lieutenant Vorscham expressed his desire to try and train her. With the major's permission I had her assigned here for the time being."

"That's quite impressive, though." The ambassador said, a slight frown crossing her face. "And here I had thought all the dragons in Valoran had retreated beyond the reach of humanity. To see a living, breathing descendant of a dragon like this..." She started to reach out towards Shyvana but Shyvana shrunk back just a bit. The ambassador frowned but dropped her hand, understanding the dragon's caution. "She—you are a magnificent creature regardless, but I have a question: how do you expect to clear a building or a room like that? You could never fit through the door."

"Watch and see." Shyvana rumbled, forestalling any further comment from the podium as she dropped away, heading towards the door of the prefabricated structure. Every step caused the ground to rumble beneath her. "Ready?" The lieutenant frowned but lifted the timer. Shyvana paused outside the door and then glanced at the podium, a wicked grin pulling her chops back to reveal massive fangs. She reared her head back and sucked in a deep breath, her chest starting to glow a bright orange as it expanded.

"Cover!" Vorscham shouted, sending his men diving to the ground.

Shyvana released a pillar of fire into the prefabricated structure that crumbled the inner walls and incinerated the entire contents of the structure. A few seconds passed as she poured fire into the structure in a steady stream, the rolling orange flames filling the entirety of the building. The roof began to billow and then it sagged as the windows around each side failed, exploding outwards with a stream of fire billowing into the air on each side. Shyvana sat back with a smirk on her face as the sound of tinkling glass and the burning building filled the air.

"Seven... seconds..." Vorscham said, glancing at the timer, his mouth hanging open.

As the dignitaries and the officials watched in awe, she slunk back and grabbed the winter coat in her jaw and lifted it, turning to look at the podium one last time before she engulfed the ground around around in flames, sending up another thick cloud of steam. Shyvana emerged from the cloud of steam several moments later clad in only the heavy winter cloak and grieves. Silence followed, only punctuated by the pop and crackle of the burning building.

The ambassador began to clap, slowly at first, but the pace picked up when the sheriff joined as well, followed by the other officers. Though the king did not clap, for the first time, Shyvana saw something in his eyes besides ice or anger. _Approval? _She bowed as best she could, her knees shaking slightly as the applause died away.

"That was incredible." The ambassador said with a small smile as she looked down at the red headed woman, meeting her magenta gaze for a few moments.

"T-that was both incredible and terrifying." The Piltover Sheriff said, shaking her head. "So many bad guys, so little time. I've never quite seen a display of force like that. Definitely awe inspiring, definitely scary."

"I've seen something similar." The ambassador from Ionia said, shaking her long hair out as the crest behind her settled, though its movements were still jerky, showing her excitement. "The Noxian War machine with their Zaunite Melters in Ionia had a similar effect. They were brutally efficient and terrifying... though her flames can cleanse rather than simply destroy. The very memory sends chills up my spine. I don't know if I should be afraid or I should congratulate you on your powerful ally, your highness."

"Thank you." The king mused, frowning as Shyvana glared up at him defiantly, smoothing his beard with a hand as he glanced away, obviously shaken. "I think. With the demonstration concluded, we can return to the palace. Unless you ladies have any questions?"

"I would like to meet the half-dragon, this Shyvana." The Ionian Ambassador said. "If possible?"

"I'll see what can be arranged, ma'am." Major Seymour said, his face clearly drained of what little color it had.

"I think our schedule is a bit tight with the additional demonstration." The king said, coughing into his hand. "I'm sure it could be arranged another time. If you'll follow me back to the palace..." The party retreated back up the hill, leaving second platoon alone as engineers stood speechless as they watched the fire burn.

"That was ballsy as all hell." Vorscham shook his head as he looked to where Shyvana smiled, obviously quite pleased with herself.

"I thought you would approve of my unorthodox tactics, sir." She said nodding. Shyvana stepped towards him, holding the cloak closed with one hand and then holding the other out towards him. "I'll be taking that two day pass, lieutenant."

"Yeah... uh, here you go." Vorscham said, depositing the piece of paper into her hand with an absent look as he watched one of the walls of the prefabricated structure collapse. The glass on the prefab structure shattered inwards, and he could only shake his head, looking down at the timer. "That _was_ fast."


	12. Chapter 11: Juniper

Shyvana frowned as she settled into a fighting stance, dropping a bit lower and spreading her feet out a bit further than she was used to. Shyvana frowned as she flexed her fists, trying to run through what Vorscham had told her about her fighting.

_Power is also necessary for putting enemies down but you must put them down quickly, swiftly, and with as little effort as possible. Drawn out fights, especially when you're not in the advantageous position often leave you tired and being tired leads to being dead. Using too much striking power is a waste of time and energy._ _It also leaves you open to counterattacks. _

"So if I go too hard, I actually put myself in more danger then what I can actually return to the aggressor, right?" Shyvana mused under her breath, standing up straight. She bounced from foot to foot briefly, trying to shake out the discomfort she felt with the change of fighting stance. She looked down at her foot and frowned; she liked a fairly narrow stance because it was easier to accelerate herself in different directions with her flames along a narrower base, and it allowed her to react quicker. She growled just a bit as the disgrace she had suffered at the hands of Vorscham played through her mind again. Her narrow stance had left her open to getting knocked around, as Vorscham had proved to her in their fight. She spread her feet apart in the dirt and then stepped from foot to foot, trying to get comfortable on her feet. She slunk a bit lower and then put one foot forward, her armored boots crunching in the frosty mud.

_You must be ready to disengage and reengage to try and maintain an upper hand at all times. Being able to react quickly to an adverse situation is the most essential part of a neutral ready stance, but you must be able to do so without sacrificing stability._

Shyvana raised both hand in front of her face in a defensive stance and took a step forward, striking at the wooden training dummy in front of her. There was a dull thud as she struck the dummy, but it only reverberated for a few brief moment before it fell still frowned, looking at her fist as she reset her feet and held one arm in front of her defensively, and let the other arm sink back behind her, rising up just a bit. She let the forward arm sink just a bit and then started to shift back and forth from foot to foot. She had used this stance in her last training session with Vorscham, but he had criticized it as weak in defense and offense, limiting her range of defensive motions, and limiting her number of striking options. Despite his protests, Shyvana found the stance comfortable, allowing her to react to a number of different attacks defensively, and it allowed her to strike harder without any draw time. Combined with her flames and the little bit of testing she had done, the power and flexibility the stance offered favored her aggressive style of fighting.

_I have more strength and surprises available to me than Vorscham can imagine._ Shyvana exhaled testily, letting fire consume her hands for a few moments, before it disappeared again only moments later. Shyvana had been working on her mastery of her flames, and weaving it into her fighting style was starting to pay dividends in her practice. _I'm not simply human, I can really on my draconian heritage as well._

_Shyvana, if you could demonstrate what it is you are?_

Shyvana felt her cheeks begin to burn as a different memory cut through her mind. The king had treated her like an animal: something to be showcased and displayed when convenient. She shook her head and tried to return to her drills, continuing to refine the training that Vorscham had given her.

_Blind aggression leads to defeat, but no aggression leads to defeat as well. When there is any unknown factor in a fight, the advantage can be rapidly manipulated to your favor or against you. The fewer surprises the better._

Shyvana struggled as she tried to calm herself, checking her footing and then putting her arms back to where she had found them comfortable, one in front and one behind her body. She took a deep breath, held it for a brief moment, and then exhaled. Shyvana snarled as she struck out, the king's words slipping into her mind like a parasite as she poured power into her strike.

The training dummy exploded in a cloud of smoke and flaming wooden shards, leaving a bare and blackened stump where the wooden training dummy had once stood.

Shyvana's chest heaved as she stared at the ground, trying to control her ragged breathing and her temper as it flared. The small wooden chips from the eviscerated target fluttered down around her like snow. Some landed on her head and shoulders and began to smolder and then fully caught fire, burning away to smoke and ash. Shyvana watched as one settled on her still outstretched arm, the small wooden chip catching fire and rapidly burning away, the ash was blown away by a gust of wind that swept through the courtyard. She lowered her hands to her sides as she tried to calm her temper, flames spluttering along the ground, deep black scars accepting the steps she had taken into the strike. She took a deep breath and extinguished the flames that still danced around her legs, shivering as the icy wind cut through and caressed her body.

_What you are..._ Shyvana shook her head, trying to banish the niggling through that plagued her mind.

"Shyvana?" Alicia stopped on the path that was closest to where the dragoness had been training. Shyvana looked over, surprised that someone was still in the empty barracks. "I almost didn't see you there. Why are you out here alone?"

"Oh, hi June." Shyvana said, blinking a few times and then shaking her head, trying to get rid of the thoughts she had been having. "Just... working off some stress."

"The major gave the company the day off though, you can go relax if you want. I'm sure there are much more relaxing ways to get rid of stress." Alicia frowned as she set down the few file folders she had been holding and pulled her canteen from her belt, holding it out for Shyvana.

"Thanks." Shyvana said, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip of the water. "I don't know..." She shrugged, sighing heavily. "I don't really know how to relax, I guess. I feel restless when I sit around doing nothing alone."

"Here, have a seat." Alicia said, gesturing to the low wall that separated the path from the courtyard. The sky was overcast and Shyvana let off steam with every huff of breath, the chill in the air starting to get worse as the sweat on her body cooled.

"I should get back to training." Shyvana said, starting to screw the cap on the canteen back into place, ignoring the gesture towards the wall.

"Don't make me pull rank on you." Alicia said with a smile that was meant to offset the worry in her face and eyes. Shyvana could see both, and shrugged, sighing. She flopped down on the low wall and ran her hands over her face, wiping away the sweat. "Now tell me: what's bothering you?"

"I don't feel right being here." Shyvana said hesitantly, staring down at the muddy snow that had been pushed up against the low wall. Some of it had melted over the past few days but it had frozen again the night before, hard as rock. "I'm not like you or anyone else. I feel out of place."

"Well that's just not right." Alicia said, sitting on the stone wall. "Everyone is out right now, partying and enjoying the day off, and yet here you are, all alone. No wonder you feel out of place." Alicia smiled as Shyvana glanced ruefully at her. "Victoria company is a tight knit group of men and women who serve together and protect the palace. There are plenty of people who don't really fit in, so why should you be any different? Why not be out there enjoying yourself and getting to know people?"

"Maybe because I'm half dragon?" Shyvana said, rolling her eyes. She glowered, letting her shoulders sink as she leaned her forearms on her knees, fidgeting with a short piece of leather strapping on her gauntlet. "Everyone tries to make it seem like they're not afraid, but I can see through that. They don't want my company." Shyvana shook her head. "I can tell how cautious everyone is, especially after what I did this morning. They used to just give me a bit of extra space, but now they avoid me like the plague."

"That's not true." Alicia said, shaking her head. "You're just imagining that! They respect you and they simply don't understand you, Shyvana. I'm sure if you tried to reach out to others in the unit there wouldn't be any issues."

"I wish it were that simple." Shyvana said, glumly. "But everyone is too afraid to even speak to me!" She clenched her fists. "I try to approach someone to even ask a question or I ask for directions and they just look at me like I'm some sort of freak."

"Shyvana..." Alicia said, frowning deeply.

"I'm sorry, June, I'm just not feeling too good right now." Shyvana said, shaking her head as she got to her feet.

"Well, how about this," Alicia said as she stood up as well, posting her hands on her hips with a smile. "I'll treat you to dinner and desert this evening."

"Huh?" Shyvana said, taken aback as Alicia's smile grew.

"I know of a cute little cafe in the merchant district we can go get takeout from." Alicia said, nodding to herself. "They have delicious pastries and sandwiches. We can go get some food and bring it back to the barracks if you like and just talk." Shyvana blushed and glanced away. "I'll show you a great way to relax."

"But why would you want to do that with the likes of me?" Shyvana said, nervously, running a hand along her arm. "Shouldn't you be enjoying yourself with all of your friends?"

"We're friends, aren't we?" Alicia said, taking Shyvana by the arm and steering her towards the barracks. "This is what friends do for friends who aren't feeling good. They try to cheer each other up. Now come on, I don't want any protesting from you."

"But..." Shyvana tried to say.

"Nope!" Alicia said with an infectious grin. "Let's get you cleaned up and then we can get some dinner, and then you can tell me more about yourself." Alicia wore a pixie faced grin as she leaned in towards the dragoness. "And you can give me the low down on the prince, too. As big as his hands are..." She winked at Shyvana.

Shyvana's face turned beet red and steam poured off the top of her head. "But I-I... We haven't-..."

"Oh?" Alicia said with a devious grin. "You two haven't gone that far quite yet? For some reason I don't quite believe that. I believe I managed to worm that fact out of you last time we had this conversation."

Shyvana looked to the floor and mumbled a few words. "Well... I mean we have, but-..."

"Good!" Alicia said, bouncing ahead of Shyvana and continue to wear her pixie grin. "Admitting it happened is the first step to embracing your lover. Speaking of embracing, I'll give you some tips and tricks on how to please the prince. First off: blow jobs and lingerie. Guys LOVE that sort of thing."

"June, keep it down!" Shyvana said trying to catch up to the white haired gunnery officer as she twirled away, giggling hysterically as she pranced about. Shyvana looked distraught as she chased her through the halls towards her quarters, Alicia giggling maniacally the entire way as she bounced along, just out of Shyvana's reach.

"And there are two ways to a man's heart: through his pants and his stomach." Alicia stopped, spun and glared at Shyvana with a smug grin. "And for some reason, I doubt that you know anything about cooking _or_ sex. You're cute, but it's not just about looking good. There's plenty of technique involved as well."

"June!" Shyvana begged as the gunny bounced out of her grasp again, continuing to dance from toe to toe just out of reach. "Please! What if someone hears you?"

"So what if they do?" Alicia said with a goofy grin. "You'll have the prince wrapped around your finger when I get done with you, just have him punish them!" Alicia's grin darkened a bit as she leaned in and whispered, "Or maybe you'd like to have him punish you? Rawr." She made the motion of a cat's paw as it scratched with one hand and then had to bounce away as Shyvana lunged at her.

"Oooo, I'm so going to make you pay for that, June." Shyvana growled as she came to a stop outside her quarters.

"It'll have to wait till later." Alicia said with a sly grin, waggling her finger at Shyvana nose as the disgruntled half-dragon crossed her arms over her chest and pouted angrily. "Go ahead and get cleaned up and changed. I'm going to go change my clothes and then we can go and get food, okay?" Shyvana puffed out a cheek and frowned but nodded. "Good. I'll see you in twenty minutes, then!" She pranced away, waving to Shyvana as she went.

"Huh? Hey, June, that's not enough time!" Shyvana said, looking at the clock at the end of the hall.

"Better hurry then!" Alicia waved and then disappeared around a corner. Shyvana's eyebrow twitched for a brief moment but she sighed and then looked at the clock again.

"Well, I better get started." Shyvana said as she opened the door to her room.

* * *

The remnants of dinner, mostly colorful checkered paper and cardboard boxes littered the table in Shyvana's room. Her clothes lay on the floor in a heap, the dragoness retreating to something more comfortable for the evening. A large paper bag sat on the table and the soft lantern light flickered around the room.

"So what are you going to do with your days off?" Alicia said as she sat beside Shyvana on her bed, a broad smile on her face. Alicia pulled her feet under her as she sat up, wearing a loose fitting tunic and a pair of soft knit trousers. She smiled as Shyvana blushed and glanced down at the surface of her bed. Shyvana wore a broad smile of her own as she kicked her legs out and leaned back, laying out along the bed. Her cheeks were pink, glowing as if she were thinking about someone special. "Runeterra to Shyvana... Hello, Shyvana?" Alicia leaned over in front of Shyvana, looking at the half dragon with a quizzical expression on her face. "Oh I get it." Alicia spun away and laced her fingers behind her head, glancing over her shoulder at the dragoness with a knowing grin. "You're thinking about the prince, aren't you?"

"Wha-...?" Shyvana sat bolt upright, blushing furiously. She shook her hands in front of herself nervously. "No, no I'm not... I mean..." Steam poured from Shyvana's head as she looked away nervously, mumbling quietly to herself.

"I knew it." Alicia said, giggling softly. She shook her long, snowy hair out behind her and then shrugged. "It's written all over your face what you want to do with these two days." Alicia winked at Shyvana and nudged her in the side, grinning from ear to ear. The dragoness's face turned the same shade of red as her hair, steam erupting from her ears.

"Oooo..." Shyvana said, shaking her head to try and clear her mind. "I mean... maybe..." She poked the tips of her index fingers together innocently, tucking her arms into her sides.

Alicia smiled and giggled, wearing a sly grin. "I believe the topic I was addressing earlier involved ways to drive the prince up the wall. Or at least crazy with lust, right?"

"June, I don't know if we're really at a stage of our relationship where I should be thinking about stuff like that." Shyvana said, blushing.

"You slept with him once, right?" Alicia said, laughing as Shyvana blushed furiously but nodded. "Well there you go. You're at that stage." Alicia sighed happily, taking a deep pull off of her ale, and then wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She uncorked the bottle and then refilled her cup, offer more to Shyvana, who nodded. Alicia filled Shyvana's cup and then set the bottle back on the table. "Hell, if you're nervous, you can always just get him drunk." Alicia said with a grin. "You drink like a sailor."

"I think being only half dragon means the alcohol is only half as effective." Shyvana said, shrugging as she sipped the ale. "It's only a theory though."

"Well that's not fun." Alicia said, shaking her head. Shyvana set her cup down and then stretched her arms above her head, yawning. "Well, if you don't want to try and get him drunk you could always use these!" Alicia wrapped her arms around Shyvana as she stretched and grabbed her chest, causing the dragoness to yelp in surprise.

"June!" Shyvana said, blushing furiously again. "What are you doing!?"

"You're always hiding such a sexy body under your armor and frumpy clothes. And you're always pouting!" Alicia said, giggling manically as she felt Shyvana's chest. She dropped her hands and began to tickle the dragoness. "Imagine if the prince could see these! I'm sure your love problems wouldn't exist!" Shyvana laughed , struggling against Alicia, but she was already in tears she was laughing so hard.

"EEK!" Shyvana yelped again, trying to form words in between bouts of intense giggling and laughter. "Let go of me! Alicia!" Shyvana whined as she tried to get away, but Alicia laughed maniacally, continuing to tease the dragoness, watching as Shyvana squirmed about, laughing hysterically now. Shyvana grabbed a pillow and tried to hold it over her stomach to prevent the tickling, but Alicia wasn't going to be stopped by a bit of fabric and down feathers.

"Not until you cheer up!" Alicia said as she watched tears of laughter run down the dragoness's face.

"I can hardly breath!" Shyvana gasped as she flopped about. "It hurts to smile so much! Please!"

"NEVER!" Alicia announced with a broad smile, wriggling her fingers as she gave Shyvana a brief moment of respite to gain her breath. She was lowering her hands down towards Shyvana stomach again when a knock came at the door, interrupting Alicia. She frowned as she sat back, Shyvana gasping for breath as she used the distraction to escape, clambering to her feet. She blushed furiously as she tried to straighten her tunic, her chest heaving as her face nearly purple from a mix of blushing too hard and a lack of air from laughing so much. Shyvana glared at Alicia with a gaze that mixed immense hatred with glee, the dragoness obviously suffering as she tried to appear angry. Alicia shrugged and gave Shyvana an innocent smile, as if to say 'I didn't do anything'. Alicia closed her eyes with a cocky smile, daring Shyvana to do something back.

_WHUMP!_

Shyvana huffed, shaking her head as she straightened her hair and her tunic, stepping away from the bed as a few feathers fluttered down through the air around her. "I'm not expecting anyone." Alicia said as she pried the pillow from her face. Picking herself up from where she had been knocked backwards onto the bed, grinning sheepishly. She was still trying desperately to appear as if nothing had happened, but the pillow to the face had ended all serious attempts at that. Shyvana's glare turned to a smile and then she giggled a bit, laughing as Alicia pulled down feathers from her hair.

"Neither am I." Shyvana replied, slightly out of breath, a grin on her face. She paused and checked her appearance in the mirror. Shorts that dropped to mid thigh, tied off and a baggy tunic that fell off one shoulder. She frowned, hardly thinking it appropriate to answer the door like this but she shook her head to try and straighten her hair and opened the door.

"Pardon me, I hope I'm not interrupting anything." The voice was calm and serene, but it was firm and refined as well. Clad in the white and black uniform of one of the palace maids, the woman bowed and smiled politely. Black hair and blue eyes partially hidden behind glasses glimmered in the dim light of the barracks hallway, a solider standing off to the side. "Are you miss Shyvana?" She asked politely. Shyvana glanced from the woman to her escort, a heavily armored palace guardsman and then back to the woman.

"Yes." Shyvana nodded once, trying to regain some modicum of dignity that had been lost to Alicia. "How can I help you?"

"I, well my master, has a request." The maid said bowing politely. "She would like to arrange a meeting with you sometime over the next few days if you were available."

"Um, well..." Shyvana said nervously. Something seemed vaguely familiar about the maid, but Shyvana couldn't place exactly what it was. "I don't know if I can-..."

"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself!" The maid said, bowing again. "How rude of me. My name is Noel Halsington."

Shyvana's eyes grew slightly wider. "You're Noel?" She said excitedly, a smile slipping onto her face. "I've heard so much about you."

Noel looked surprised. "You have?" Noel blinked several times, her glasses shimmering as she looked at the dragoness.

"Jarvan told me a stories about you." Shyvana said, nodding. Noel pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and they shimmered ominously in the candle light, obscuring her piercing blue eyes for a few moments before she leaned forward.

"Oh did he now?" She said sternly. Shyvana laughed for a moment and then nodded again.

"Don't worry, they were all good things." Shyvana said gesturing inside. "Would you like to come in?"

"No, thank you." Noel said, letting her expression return to that of a polite smile. "I have some other business I must attend to after this. But I would like to extend my master's invitation again. They would very much like to meet and have lunch with you if you're available."

"Well..." Shyvana stammered.

"Go ahead." Alicia said, grinning. "You have tomorrow free so you might as well, considering all you were doing today in your free time was beating yourself up and destroying training dummies. That'll mean I have less replacement targets to order. Everyone's happy." Shyvana glared ruefully at Alicia, but the gunny's smile was impervious.

"Very good! I'm sure she'll be grateful to finally get to meet you. I shall pick you up from the barracks tomorrow at five thirty, yes?" Noel said, bowing. "Thank you for your time, Miss Shyvana."

"Wait... hold on..." Shyvana stammered but Noel had already disappeared with a swish of her uniform. Shyvana stuck her head into the hallway, looking for the maid to ask a question, but she had disappeared around the corner. Shyvana glanced the other way, trying to make sure she wasn't just imagining things and rubbed her eyes. She stepped back into the room, pulling the door shut behind her, moving a bit slower, as if she had been stunned. "W-what just happened?" Shyvana sat heavily on the bed, trying to let her head catch up with what had just occurred. She flopped backwards and laid her arm over her face, taking a few deep breaths. "That was... overwhelming."

"The tickling or the maid?" Alicia said with a grin. She held the pillow out of reach of Shyvana with a smile.

"Both." Shyvana said, her shoulder slumping momentarily as she took a deep breath and exhaled again.

"My best guess is that you're either going on a date with Jarvan or meeting the family, sooo..." Alicia said with a knowing grin. "You might as well try and have some fun! Just dress up and go just to see what's going on; it'll be easy. Besides, you can figure out if the rumors are true."

"I met the family already." Shyvana said, shivering. "I ended up destroying some of the palace and I don't think In really made a decent impression." She closed her eyes and shook her head., trying to sit up and look attentive. "But what's this about rumors?" A frown crossed over her face. "What rumors?"

"The ones about the prince." Alicia said, pulling a paper bag out from under a large pile of colorful paper wrappers from their dinner. She paused and frowned, her hand deep in the bag. "Apparently the king and Prince Jarvan got into a shouting match yesterday. Jarvan was sentenced to house arrest after he nearly assaulted the king. You haven't heard?"

"He did WHAT!?" Shyvana said, tumbling off the bed. She picked herself up and shook her head, blinking as disbelief covered her face. She pushed herself up and crawled back onto the bed, glaring at Alicia.

"He nearly hit the king..." Alicia said quietly. "Or he tried to, before the guards detained him, that is."

"Why?" Shyvana said, leaning towards Alicia. "What happened? Is Jarvan alright?"

"Well, as far as I know, no one was hurt." Alicia said with a shrug. "Jarvan was in a meeting, but right afterwords he got into an argument with the king and then just went berserk over something. He was detained by guardsmen and confined to his quarters right after that." Shyvana shook her head in disbelief, sinking backward before she flopped back, flat on the bed.

Shyvana stared up at the ceiling in silence. _Jarvan... what happened?_

"Buck up. Here." Alicia held out a square package that was wrapped in colorful paper. Shyvana pushed herself up into a sitting position.

"What's this?" Shyvana said, accepting the package and sniffing it. The scent was sweet and rich, nutty and strong. _It smelled of extremely rich chocolate._ Her mouth fell open and she started to drool as she opened the package.

"It's a piece of dark chocolate cake." Alicia said with a grin. "I saw you staring when we passed the bakery on our way back. I thought I'd cheer you up since you weren't feeling so hot earlier. If you don't like chocolate, I got myself a piece of cheesecake you can have instead." Shyvana shook her head rapidly, wiping a tendril of saliva from her chin.

"No, this is good!" Shyvana said excitedly, looking at the cake with a large grin on her face. She dug in using her fingers, pushing a huge chunk of the cake into her mouth. She moaned as the chocolate her tongue, blushing.

"You really like dessert, don't you?" Alicia said with a grin. Shyvana looked up from a massive mouthful of cake and tried to smile, sending crumbs tumbling to the ground. Alicia burst out laughing, tumbling backwards because she was laughing so hard.

"Yeah..." Shyvana said meekly, her cheeks flushed as she swallowed the mouthful of cake. "I really like chocolate."

"Heh, and here I thought you'd be all about red meat and snacking on the prince." Alicia said, grinning mischievously and nudging Shyvana as she tucked into her cheesecake. Shyvana's face turned bright red again and Alicia laughed so hard she started to choke on the bite of cheesecake she was trying to swallow.

"You keep teasing me about that." Shyvana said, handing over one of the cups of ale they had procured from the PX. Alicia sucked it down, pounding on her chest as she finally got the cheesecake and ale down, panting.

"Don't make me laugh so hard when I'm eating." Alicia said testily, glaring at Shyvana.

"B-but, you were-..." Shyvana stammered looking at Alicia with her mouth hanging open, astounded the gunny would try and give her grief after the tickling she had been subject to earlier. Alicia sat primly as she drank more of the ale, trying to appear innocent to any and all accusations. She opened one eye and glanced at Shyvana who was glaring at her suspiciously. Alicia tried to keep a straight face but was struggling to keep a smile from forming. She eventually broke down, laughing and giggling as Shyvana joined in. "What about you and Vorscham then?" Shyvana said as she forked another mouthful of the moist, dark cake into her mouth.

It was Alicia's turn to have her face turn the same shade of red as Shyvana's hair. She glanced at Shyvana and tried to swallow the cheesecake again, choking as second time and panicking as she reached for her cup. It was empty as she turned it up on end, and Shyvana chuckled, passing the bottle over, watching as Alicia turned it on end. Left panting and gasping for air, Alicia wiped some of the red ale from her mouth with the back of her hand, looking at Shyvana nervously. "There's nothing going on between the Lieutenant and I." She said, trying to play off her obvious nerves. Shyvana raised an eyebrow and fitted Alicia with a piercing glare. "Really, there's nothing going on, I promise you."

"I suppose I must take your word for it." Shyvana said, watching as Alicia sighed heavily, looking at the cheesecake with a frown that said otherwise. _Well I don't buy it, but that looks to be a pretty sore topic._ Shyvana let it go, finishing off the last of her cake and then washing it down with the last of her own ale. She laid back on the bed heavily with a satisfied sigh, laying her hand over her stomach and patting it a few times. "Mmm, that was good."

"Doesn't take much to keep you happy, now does it?" Alicia said, pulling her knee up to her chest and smiling, leaning her cheek against her kneecap.

"I could really use a hug from Jarvan right about now, but other than that, no, I don't need much to be happy." Shyvana said softly, rolling onto her side, her face flushed.

"Well hopefully it will all work out tomorrow, right?" Alicia said, getting to her feet and gathering up the trash from their meals and packing it into one of the paper bags. She left the bag in the trash can and took a deep breath, glancing back over her shoulder at Shyvana. "How about this: I'll lend you a cute outfit and I'll help you get your hair tamed. I'll even throw in a little makeup so you look your best. Sound good?"

"What's wrong with my hair?" Shyvana said, running her hands over her bangs as they fell over face. "It's such a beautiful shade of red, and it's nice and long... soft and shiny..."

"It's messy." Alicia said bluntly.

"That's not nice." Shyvana said, yawning. Her face was now red and she tucked her legs into her chest as she tugged on the end of her braid, nibbling the tip of the longest few locks of hair. "I like my hair... it's so pretty... and red..."

"You said that already." Alicia rolled her eyes but smiled. "Well, we'll deal with it in the morning." Alicia said, shaking her head. She looked back at Shyvana, and frowned, the dragoness was trembling, her face flushed a deep red. "You alright, Shyvana?"

"I think so..." She said, pushing her face into the bed as her breathing deepened slightly. "I feel kinda strange... it's _tingly."_ She giggled slightly, a cat like smile on her face as she rolled back and forth along the bed. "Oh Jarvan, it's so good to finally see you!"

Alicia glanced around, looking over her shoulder and then scratching her cheek. "Uh, Shyvana, you must be seeing things." Shyvana grabbed her pillow and hugged it to her chest, giggling maniacally again. Shyvana shook her head and moaned loudly, surprising Alicia as horns sprouted from her head. "Oh wow, you are _extremely_ horny right now." Alicia smirked at her own joke but it slowly died as Shyvana paid her no attention. "Nothing?" Alicia crossed her arms over her chest and frowned.

"Please Jarvan, wait..." Shyvana moaned, giggling again as she rolled onto her back, holding the pillow on top of her. "We can't do that here... people will see us!"

"Uhm." Alicia blushed at bit as she watched Shyvana press the pillow against her body. "I get you haven't seen Jarvan in a while, but the least you could do is wait until I'm gone to start pleasuring yourself."

"Jarvan, you mustn't touch me there!" Shyvana moaned, her breathing heavy and hot. "If you're going to ride me on this, the least you could do is pull my hair..."

"What's with you?" Alicia said, shaking her head as she ran a hand over her face. "You're completely delusional."

"It's so hot all of a sudden." Shyvana shook her head, quaking slightly as she bounced on the bed giddily. "Jarvan, please not yet... It won't fit..."

"And that's my cue to leave!" Alicia said, shaking her head. She paused at the door and listened to Shyvana maniacally cackling to herself as she tossed and turned on the bed. She shook her head and grinned, rolling her eyes as she pulled the door shut behind her. She chuckled and shook her head. "Alcohol does nothing. Apparently, dragon's and chocolate make for a hot time. Well, at least I think the chocolate did it." She shrugged and sighed as she pulled the door closed behind her.

"Good night, and sweet dreams, Shyvana." Alicia smirked as she shook her head, leaving the dragoness to her fantasies and her chocolate addled dreams.


	13. Chapter 12: Catherine

Shyvana felt out of place as she stood at the front door of the barracks.

"June, are you sure about this?" Shyvana tugged on the cloak, pulling it closer around her. "I feel so... exposed. These clothes are so thin, and the thing you gave me for my chest hurts." Shyvana went to tug at the brassiere again, but Alicia swatted her hand aside and made a fuss about making sure Shyvana's blouse was on correctly and how the cloak wasn't going to mess up the ribbon that Alicia had tied Shyvana's thigh-long braid off with. She rearranged Shyvana's scarf for the umpteenth time, adjusting the end of the tassels so it fell over her chest, letting the deep blue accent Shyvana's hair.

"You're going to dinner, not battle!" June said in a mischievous manner. "If you want to make a good impression, wearing a military uniform isn't really the right way to go about it. Besides, if it is Jarvan, you might as well wear something cute, just in case!" Alicia patted her on the back and gave her a brave smile, but Shyvana simply blushed, looking at the ground.

"I don't like it, regardless." Shyvana muttered.

"Oh, I don't want to hear any of that nonsense." Alicia said, trying to brush a lock of hair from Shyvana's face. It didn't want to cooperate though, the single lock of red hair bouncing down just over her nose. "Your hair, it doesn't like to cooperate does it?"

Shyvana tried to shake her hair out, but it didn't move much. "It usually does just what I want, but you stuck so many pins in it, my head just feels heavy." Shyvana protested. Her hair was pulled back in a tight braid on the back of her head, her bangs practically plastered to her head by bobby pins and hair clips. "Can't I take some of them out?"

"Why?" Alicia said, taking Shyvana in her arms and giving her a hug. "You look so cute!"

Shyvana blushed furiously. "I guess, but..."

"Don't sweat it, Shyvana." Alicia said, smiling. "Just _be_ yourself, be _true_ to yourself and don't let it worry you. I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"I don't even know who I'm meeting though." Shyvana said with a frown, her voice slightly distressed.

"Good evening." Noel approached the massive wooden doors of the barracks with a polite smile on her face and a cloak wrapped around her shoulders against the afternoon chill. The day was dreary and overcast and the sky had just begun to darken. There was the scent of a fresh snowfall coming, but Noel looked as calm and happy as ever.

"Hi there!" Alicia said, smiling infectiously. Shyvana barely mumbled a greeting, still staring at the ground.

"Ready?" Noel asked, looking Shyvana over. The dragoness nodded nervously. "Very good! Shall we go then?" She started off, gesturing for Shyvana to follow.

"Alright." Shyvana responded, falling into step with the maid.

"Take care and have fun." Alicia said, waving. Shyvana pulled the cloak around her tighter, the gusts of wind bouncing up under her cloak and sweeping up the skirt. She shivered and pushed the skirt down, trying to fight the wind but try as she might, she was uncomfortable in this new form of dress.

"You look pretty today, ma'am." Noel said, smiling politely as she slowed her pace to match Shyvana.

"Oh." Shyvana said blushing as she tried to stop fidgeting with the skirt for a few moments, trying to process the comment coming from Noel. "Thank you?"

"Of course." Noel said, nodding and smiling, dimpling prettily. "I wasn't aware that you owned any clothes of your own yet."

"These were loaned to be by June—Gunnery Sergeant Juniper." Shyvana said, shaking her head and blushing a bit again. "I feel really out of place honestly, Miss Noel. I have no idea what I should say. I don't even know who I'm meeting!"

"Not to worry, my master is very excited to meet you. She has expressed rising concerns of the state of Jarvan's mental health, and her concern has led her to you." Noel let slip a small frown. "The confrontation between Jarvan and his father the other day has left her curious about you needless to say. The queen is a very understanding and kind woman though, I'm sure you'll get along just fine with her."

"The queen?" Shyvana squeaked, her eyes growing wide. "B-but... What can I do?" Shyvana stammered, blinking and stumbling over a cobblestone as she struggled to catch up with Noel as she picked up the pace a bit. "I can hardly find my way around the barracks! I'm not in any position to help someone else right now."

"Au contraire, Miss Shyvana." Noel said with a smile. "Mental stability, company, drive, protection, comfort," Noel winked and Shyvana blushed a bit. "...are all ways that you can help the prince. You'll do just fine this evening."

"Everyone keeps telling me I'll do well, but I really don't know what I'm doing." Shyvana said blushing again as she slowed to a stop, staring at the ground. Noel paused a few steps ahead, looking back at Shyvana with a bit of a frown marring her face.

"Worry not, Miss Shyvana, the queen is very gracious and kind." Noel said reassuringly. "Imagine you are speaking to your mother. It's as simple as that."

"I..." Shyvana hesitated. "I never knew my mother." Shyvana tugged on the cloak, her hands working to try and hide her nerves, but all they did was betray her. Noel froze for a long period of time, simply looking down at Shyvana, blinking.

"Oh. Well." Noel said, now the hesitant one. "Please excuse me, I didn't mean to offend you, or say anything inappropriate."

"It's fine." Shyvana said with a heavy sigh, pulling the scarf up over her mouth and tucking her face into the soft woolen fabric. "There is no way you could have known."

"I'm truly sorry." Noel said, bowing. She stood up straight and looked around for a moment, and then smiled, her eyes widening a bit as is she had an epiphany. "The way Gunny Juniper was worrying over you, that's motherly. Think of the queen similar to how you would think of Gunny Juniper."

"That's how a mother acts?" Shyvana said, smiling to herself, hiding it behind her scarf again. "I guess that makes sense." Shyvana paused for a moment, her face flushed just a bit as she remembered what Alicia had done in her quest to try and cheer Shyvana up the night before. _I hope the Queen isn't that... wild_.

"It will explain itself when you meet her." Noel said, smiling, gesturing for Shyvana to follow her again.

"But..." Shyvana started to protest as she jogged to catch up with the maid's strides.

"My master will explain everything in due time, Miss. Until then..." Noel said, forestalling any comments as she stopped at an intersection of two city streets. The maid turned back and smiled, gesturing towards the street. "Welcome to Merchant's Street, heart of the Mercantile District." Noel's black bangs bounced as her braid swished from side to side behind her as she turned and led Shyvana down the street.

"This is amazing, Miss Noel." Shyvana's mouth hung open as she watched the packed thoroughfare. Men and women walked arm in arm as they strode up and down the street. Brightly lit shoppe windows glowed with all sorts of nicknacks and gifts displayed in the window. They passed a store with glowing motes of light dancing an intricate pattern in the window, a mage casting beautiful patterns of light as small children and their parents crowded around to watch. Shyvana stopped and stared in awe, wonder glittering in her eyes as the light blossomed and swirled. It was like watching fireflies and stars dance a ballet; something Shyvana had never seen before.

"Wow..." Shyvana mouthed as a small dragon, made of orange flames and golden swirls, danced around the children's heads. A smile spread across the children and Shyvana's face as the dragon roared, and sprayed a small cloud of sparkling flames into the air.

"That's nothing." Noel said with a grin. "Child's play." Shyvana blinked a few times as looked at Noel with a disbelieving grin. "When Mistress Luxanna Crownguard returns from the Institute of War, you must ask her to show you some real illusion magic. You won't believe the things she can show you."

"I'll try to remember that." Shyvana said, falling in besides Noel as her eyes danced around the street. "Miss Noel?"

"Please." She said, turning towards the dragoness. "It's just Noel at this point, young lady."

"Alright." Shyvana said, an excited smile upon her face. She stuck her hand out. "Call me Shyvana, then." Noel look surprised but accepted the her hand and shook it. She smiled as she continued to lead the way down the crowded street. "I meant to ask earlier, but what is with all of the decoration. I don't remember them from when I first entered the city. Even yesterday I didn't see any of this... what happened? It's all so beautiful but I don't know what it's for..."

Lights twinkled around the street and candles danced in the windows, casting an eerie glow along the cobbles when the many shadows danced past. Lanterns sparkled to life, the motes of fire flaring and growing brighter, giving the street a warm, golden-orange color. Sprigs of green leaves with white berries hung from the top of archways and above doors. Boughs of holly and fir were dressed around the street, long chains hanging from walls and the street lamps. Blue and gold ribbons decorated rings of dark green holly and pine branches, all of it smelling fresh and crisp like it had just been cut. Gold and blue badging decorated all of the bows as well, the Demacian crest shimmering on each and every ribbon. Shyvana rubbed her eyes, unable to believe what she saw before her as she approached the next intersection, Noel following behind her with a small smile. A tall fir tree now stood in the main intersection of Merchant's Street, small motes of light dancing across its branches. It was decorated with shinning glass balls of white, blue and gold, icy white frosting decorating each with a delicate pattern. Shyvana pranced up and stared into her reflection in one of the white balls of glass, surprised by the odd shape of her face that it shown in the reflection. She giggled at the silly expression, waggling her tongue and crossing her eyes as she continued to giggle and make faces at herself.

"Having fun?" Noel said, smiling as she watched Shyvana. "These are traditional Snowdown decorations."

"Snowdown?" Shyvana said, wrinkling up her nose, a frown upon her face.

"Surely you've heard of the Time of Snowdown." Noel said, an astonished look upon her face. While Noel had observed that Shyvana had slowly been acclimating herself with the Demacian lifestyle, mostly thanks to Gunny Juniper, there were often still things that seemed to allude her.

"I have, though I've never actually celebrated it." She tried to shrug but couldn't manage the gesture properly, breaking into a nervous smile.

"That's a pity..." Noel said, a soft expression upon her face. Shyvana could see a glimmer of excitement in Noel's eyes, but there was also one of disappointment as well. Shyvana was surprised by the two emotions swirling around in her eyes, but turned her attention back to the decorations.

"And is this all normal?" Shyvana said, pointing to the holly and pine that decorated everything around the street. All of the windows and bare walls were covered in festive decoration and lights, and even the lamp posts had been given a green fir makeover.

"For the Palace, and the Mercantile district, yes, it's _quite_ the tradition." Noel said with a proud smile. "Demacia is famous for going all out with Snowdown decorations. Almost the entire city looks like this. It's gorgeous." She beamed, turning to look over the top of Shyvana's head at a shoppe window. "And with the snow that should be coming... oh, it's unlike anything you've ever seen." Her voice was reverent and quiet with awe, a broad smile upon her face.

"It sounds lovely." Shyvana said with a smile. She continued looking around as they walked, but soon a thoughtful expression crossed onto her face. "Are there any other traditions I should know about?"

"Well..." Noel said, slowing up and glancing around the street. "Let's see, there's mistletoe." Noel pointed to the green leaves and white berries above a doorway, where a couple was exchanging a passionate kiss. Shyvana blushed slightly, but Noel smiled. "Something that Jarvan will undoubtedly share with you. There are also a few traditions that have held over from what Snowdown used to be, a time to commemorate the pass of the previous year. Demacia's events used to be dominated with a strong sense of reverence, hosting grand ceremonies and commemorations of the year's passed heroes, but with the recent peace, we've move to more happy celebrations or life and achievement. The tradition used to be gifts of sorrow to those who had lost family, but now it has lost much of that meaning. Parents often give their children presents, wrapped up in bows and colorful paper beneath the tree because they're thankful they get to share another year together." Noel gestured towards a tree in a toy shoppe window where boxes wrapped with colorful paper and ribbon had been piled high. "Lovers often exchanged gifts as well, as you never know at what point your loved one might have to march off to war. Though that doesn't happen nearly as much anymore, thanks to the Institute of War."

"I see..." Shyvana said, lost in thought as they continued up the street. _What if Jarvan ever had to march off to war? All the talk has pointed to the possibility recently..._ Shyvana shook her head, and tried not to think about losing Jarvan to something unfortunate like that. _If Jarvan is ever called to war, I shall be right there beside him._

As they walked along the street, Shyvana tried to turn her thoughts back to the colorful sights and smells, rather than how much she missed Jarvan. As she tried to take in all the different things, she began to realized that she was woefully unprepared for the multitude of amazing things that assaulted her senses. On top of the new sights, smells, tastes and sounds, the people were crushing in around her. Unlike Noxus, where everyone had been too busy to notice her, everyone they passed seemed to offer them a cheerful holiday greeting. It was... _different._ Noel returned many of them with her seemingly normal, cheerful response of '_Happy Snowdown to you, too!'_ Shyvana was content with merely nodding her greetings to the families, women, men and everyone else they passed on the street.

When Shyvana wasn't lost amid the general good cheer and festive greetings of the crowd, her eyes were plastered upon the massive store fronts that were all vying for business and attention. She saw shoppes that sold every sort of thing imaginable, from toys and small nicknacks for young boys and girls, to arms and weapons and everything in between. Smithies turned out small, beautiful pieces of silver and gold jewelry, their fine craft garnering impressive attention from women, often hanging onto the arm of dashing young men in military uniforms who were intent on impressing their female companions. It wasn't long before Noel gestured towards a shoppe front amid the many others, standing on the corner of an intersection.

"We've arrived, Shyvana." Noel said, stepping towards it and motioning for Shyvana to follow. Shyvana simply nodded and followed her into the restaurant, the scent of food and baked goods suddenly reminding Shyvana how hungry she was. Shyvana sniffed the air, the distinct scent of chocolate chip cookies wafting through the entrance way of the restaurant. A hostess approached, dressed in a pretty tartan skirt and a simple white blouse, an apron hanging loosely upon her hips.

"Welcome to the Stone Hearth Cafe." The hostess said, smiling at both of them. "How can I help you?"

"We have a friend here already, she's waiting for us." Noel said, smiling. "The party name should be 'Catherine'."

"Let me just check the registrar here, ma'am..." The hostess said as she looked over a sheet of paper on the podium that was just inside the door. Her eyes grew wide when she same across it. "OH! W-welcome, ma'am! This way, please!" The hostess lead them excitedly through the crowded dining room to the back of the dining area, where a set of stairs were roped off. The hostess moved the rope out of the way, gesturing up the stairs. Noel nodded her thanks and started up the steps, Shyvana following behind her all the way up, ending on large platform that stretched along the side of the high ceiling. It was a bit darker than the lower floors, but it was also warmer. There were a few tables here and there but they were all empty. "Your table is right over here, ladies."

Shyvana paused as she looked towards the furthest table back, tucked away in the far corner, over looking a large window that gave a wide view of the street below. Standing at the window a tall, elegant woman, looking out over the street with a surprisingly soft smile upon her face, a dark cloak pulled over her shoulders. She turned at the sound of footsteps and looked back, almost surprised to see Shyvana and Noel standing there. The surprise melted and was replaced with a warm smile, as she ran her hand along the back of the chair, taking several steps forward. She paused, a few steps beyond the table, but she took one step further into the light, revealing brown hair and eyes that were the exactly same shade of gray-blue as Jarvan's eyes.

"Well, aren't you charming." The soft voice mused. "Greetings, Shyvana." Shyvana blinked a few times and then blushed, suddenly bowing deep.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am!" Shyvana nearly barked. She realized she was way too loud and then bowed again, staying down as her eyes drilled into the floor. _Damnit! I'm already making an ass of myself! _Catherine Lightshield moved with an the ease and grace that billowed around her as she seemed to float over the wooden boards of the cafe. She touched Shyvana on the shoulder and gently gestured for her to stand. "Oh, uh, your highness..." Shyvana said nervously, her already windswept cheeks burning an even brighter shade of pink. She envied the grace and wisdom of the Queen of Demacia, her soft voice and even demeanor already serving to calm Shyvana's nerves.

"Please, I asked you here to learn more about you, not to drill you on basic military protocol." Catherine offered the dragoness a warm smile, hoping to melt a bit of the ice of the first meeting. "I'd like this to be a casual as possible. I really don't care for the rigor and pomp of military proceedings in times as intimate as these. Snowdown is a time for cheer, reflection and family. My family..." She sighed heavily as she lowered herself to the chair. "My family is starting to tear itself apart, and I need your help."

"M-my help?" Shyvana stammered, standing up infinitely straighter, blushing slightly. "I mean—of course. How can I help you, ma'am?"

"Please." Lady Catherine said, shaking her head just a bit as she chuckled softly, hiding her mouth with a hand. "Just call me Catherine."

"Sure—I mean yes ma'am—I mean of course your majesty—I mean..." Shyvana said, nervously her voice turning to mumbles as she blushed. "I don't know what I mean..." Her voice trailed off with an embarrassed whimper.

"Please, please, it's simply Catherine." The queen said, chuckling softly again. "Just treat me like you would treat your own mother." The queen offered her a warm smile, but Shyvana's face fell and the queen realized she had said something that caused Shyvana to feel sad.

"Yes, ma'am." Shyvana said, with a soft voice, her tone slightly subdued. Lady Catherine started to reprimand her but the look on Shyvana's face silenced her.

"Please, have a seat." Lady Catherine gestured to one of the chairs around the table, trying to offer an encouraging smile. "And you as well, Noel. Please, sit down with us."

"Ma'am, I couldn't..." Noel began to say, but Lady Catherine simply looked at the maid once and Noel nodded quickly. She made sure both Shyvana and Lady Catherine were seated first before she took her own seat.

The waitress who had been standing off to the side approached a few steps and bowed her head almost reverently. "So, what can I get for you ladies before we get dinner served?" She said politely, smiling.

"Three mugs of Cocoa will be fine for now." Lady Catherine said, smiling at the waitress. "Would you like anything else to accompany that? We may not eat for a little while..." She directed the question towards Shyvana, watching the excitement play over her face. Lady Catherine sighed a breath of relief that Shyvana was cheering up.

"A chocolate chip cookie please." Shyvana said meekly, blushing, embarrassed at her own excitement.

"Better make it three." Catherine said with a smile. The waitress nodded and disappeared to get their cookies and drinks. She took a deep breath and the laced her hands in front of her upon the table. "While we wait, I hope you don't mind if I ask some questions about you?" Lady Catherine said hesitantly. "They may be a bit personal."

"I'll answer them as best I can." Shyvana said nodding bravely as she took a deep breath. She pulled the cloak from her shoulders and hung it on the back on her chair. She tried not to fiddle with the hair clips, but she couldn't help but fiddle with her braid. She caught herself and tried to sit up a bit straighter. "Before we start, can I ask you a question, ma'am?"

"Only if you call me Catherine." The queen said almost scornfully. "Or at least Lady Catherine if you are that uncomfortable with just Catherine."

"Lady Catherine, please." Shyvana said meekly, grinning and slightly embarrassed.

"Go ahead then, young lady." Lady Catherine said with a smile meant to calm her. Shyvana looked hesitant but nodded a bit and sobered up trying to put on a brave face.

"Why did you want to meet me, ma'am?" Shyvana asked bluntly. Lady Catherine set her hands on the table before her and sighed a breath of relief as if she was relieved.

"Dragons have always been a bit of a fascination of mine." Catherine said with a girlish smile, crossing her arms over her chest as she sat back just a bit. "My father used to talk of a time when dragons freely roamed Valoran. They worked with humans hand in hand, training and teaching them how to balance the flow of life and magic. But eventually... dragons kind left the eye of civilization. Why did that happen?"

"Well..." Shyvana frowned. "That was millennia ago. Dragon-kind likes to blame humanity and their abuse of magic for causing the deterioration of the world, but my father was never convinced that the dragons were completely absolved in responsibility. Dragon magic is just as violent and barbaric as human magic." Shyvana shrugged. "My father told me some stories about the dragon's of old, but he never spoke of his past much, mostly the history he observed."

"He was a scholar then?" Lady Catherine proposed.

"Yes." Shyvana said, nodding. "He was a historian of sorts, watching the world and trying to theorize about the world he had lived through to try and help the new world."

"He would have done well to serve the Institute of War." Catherine said sympathetically. "His knowledge would have been a boon, and he could have possibly found protection there for you."

"Humanity was not kind to my father and I." Shyvana said hesitantly. "We were chased from more towns than I can remember, and seldom did humans want to listen to a dragon, regardless of how wise he may have been. I don't know if he tried to approach the Institute, but I don't know If he would have ever been able." Shyvana stared at the table, wiping away tears that she hadn't realized had formed in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories." Lady Catherine said, patting Shyvana's hand gently.

Shyvana shook her head. "It's fine. I miss him a lot, but I can't think that he'd be anything but happy for me now."

"I would imagine so." Lady Catherine said smiling. "That being said though, just who are you?" Lady Catherine looked towards the dragoness with a bit of a smile playing over her face. "I had thought dragons hated humans?"

"I'm actually only half-dragon." Shyvana said, looking down at her hands. "My father was a celestial dragon and my mother was human. I can hardly remember her from when I was just a baby and my father didn't speak of her much. She was from Demacia, well, at least I think she was. The only memento of her that I have is this hair." Shyvana tugged on her braid, running her hands over the soft red hair.

"A live celestial dragon?" Catherine said, her mouth hanging open slightly. "I had read about them in my history books. I thought they had gone extinct long ago..."

"Well, my father actually died several months ago." Shyvana said, looking at the ground and tucking her hands under her thighs, against the wooden chair. "I don't know if there are any others left out there honestly."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Catherine said softly. A few moments of silenced followed, and the queen finally sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before opening her eyes and meeting Shyvana's gaze intently. She opened her mouth to say something but she shut it when steps approached them from behind. The hair on the back of Shyvana's neck stood on in and she flexed her knuckles on top of her knees, readying for an attack.

"Here you go, ladies." The waitress said, smiling, dimpling prettily as she swept up towards the table. Shyvana exhaled, trying to calm herself, running her hands over her the skirt to dry her palms. The waitress set a steaming mug before Shyvana, Lady Catherine, and Noel, and set a plate with three large chocolate chip cookies between them. Shyvana licked her lips as Noel said her thanks. "I'll hold off on a main course for you ladies, yes?" The queen nodded a conformation and her thanks. "Very well. Please let us know when you're ready." The waitress nodded and left them to their drinks and their odd choice of appetizer. Noel wrapped her hands around the barrel of her mug, letting the steam caress her face. Shyvana did the same, pulling it close to her, ducking her head to sniff the murky brown contents of the mug.

"What is this '_cocoa'_?" Shyvana said, glancing from the thick, muddy looking liquid up to the queen. "It smells like chocolate..." Lady Catherine laughed with a broad smile spread over her face.

"It is, indeed. Go ahead and try it, this cafe has the best cocoa in the entire kingdom." Lady Catherine said, sipping her mug gingerly. Shyvana watched a smile grow on both Lady Catherine and Noel's faces and then slowly did the same, her eyes growing as wide as the saucer beneath her mug when she finally tasted the contents. She took a long pull from the mug, closing her eyes and moaning softly as the warmth spread through her body. She felt warmth begin to spread through her extremities against the day's chill.

"That's amazing." Shyvana said, taking a deep breath and sighing contently. Noel giggled softly.

"You really like chocolate, don't you?" Noel said, grinning over top of her own mug of hot cocoa. Shyvana nodded vigorously, this time causing even the queen to chuckle softly as a smile spread over Shyvana's face, her cheeks blushed to a soft pink. She look another sip, sinking just a bit in her seat, sighing contently.

"That's so good..." Shyvana murmured. She sat back and took a cookie, slowly nibbling on it as she waited. Lady Catherine could see her nerves starting to mount again. She set her mug down and took a deep breath.

"We might as well address this subject now." Catherine asked, leaning forward on the table and looking directly at the dragoness. "What exactly is going on between you and my son, Prince Jarvan?"

"Well... I guess you could we're..." Shyvana began, hesitating, blushing furiously as she spoke the words with a small voice. She was obviously searching for the right way to explain how she felt about the prince. "He asked me something once." Shyvana said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes as she pressed a hand over her heart, reciting the words from memory. "'You, who are born of both dragon and human blood have been invaluable to me in so many ways, through this immense cataclysm that marks the land and our lives. Will you serve Demacia at my side and accept her as your new home?' When he spoke those words, I think I felt my heart melt." Shyvana opened her eyes and looked over at the queen who looked surprised, but the surprise soon turned to a smile.

"He said that?" The woman said, raising an eyebrow.

"I know..." Shyvana said, smiling a little bit, but as she pressed her hands into her lap, the smile faded. "I told him that as long as I was beside him, I would be happy. But now, I have to wonder if it's really going to work out like we—I had originally hoped."

"Perhaps we should start from the beginning then." Lady Catherine said evenly. Though she didn't betray any sympathy, she didn't look angry or perturbed. "When he lost his company so many years ago, something changed in him. Jarvan was no longer the outgoing, energetic and ambitious young officer he had been before, the spitting image of the perfect Demacian soldier. He was a shell, both here and not here at the same time. Two years ago, he up and left Demacia, setting out with twelve men in his service, the last remnants of his Exemplar Company."

Shyvana nodded. "When I first met Jarvan, he had been empty and distant, but only seven of the twelve men were in his service still. I was afraid and in the late stages of shock when we had first encountered each other, angry at the world for the pain I had suffered. I didn't think it was fair and I was willing to lash out at anyone who approached." Shyvana said, wringing her hands. "I... uh... may or may not have tried to kill him when he first approached."

Catherine inhaled sharply, sitting up. "Jarvan definitely left that part out of his report."

"I don't blame him..." Shyvana said, grimacing. "It wasn't my finest moment." Catherine sighed heavily as Noel patted her hand sympathetically.

"I'm glad to see that the two of you managed to work it out." Noel said with a smile. Shyvana laughed and she could hear Catherine laugh as well. Shyvana sighed contently and she paused to wonder if this is what it was like to have a mother; she had never known her own. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, not all too different from when she and Jarvan managed to share one of their few quiet moments.

"It was difficult." Shyvana said, shaking her head. "I don't think I've ever faced anything more difficult, and I don't think I'll ever face anything harder that what we went through back then." She looked to the ground and took a sip of the cocoa to try and calm her nerves. "This may be hard to deal with, the training and separation, but it's child's play to what we faced before."

"I can't begin to imagine what you went though." Lady Catherine said softly, sympathy on her face.

"It was hell." Shyvana said, glancing away with a look of pain and disgust on her face. "But, it was not something I wasn't used to."

"You make it sound like you went through it for all of you life." Lady Catherine started to joke. The smile died when Shyvana gave her a haunted look. "Please continue." Shyvana nodded meekly.

"I was chased and tormented by a dragon all of my life, with the intent of being used to break and torture my father for betraying dragon kind, for mating with a human. My father died at the hands of that bastard, Kampf, and he left me to die, retreating to watch as I suffered and grieved."

"That's horrifying." Catherine said, her voice laced with a mix of awe and disgust. "Why would he do something like that, though?"

"Kampf viewed me as an abomination; a mark upon the honor of dragon-kind that sullied their pure bloodlines. I was a blemish and I was to be purged, but not before I suffered for my very existance. It was a few days after that when I first met Jarvan." Her voice trailed off. "While I may have tried to fight him at first, I soon realized that he merely wanted to help me, not cause me more undue pain and agony. He gave me food and water as I approached the brink of death, and he rescued me from myself."

"If you need a moment..." Noel said softly, but Shyvana shook her head, blinking away tears.

Shyvana pushed on. "All I can say is that my life, my entire being, belongs to Jarvan. I owe him more than I could ever hope to pay back, and as we journeyed together, I came to love him dearly. When he offered me to opportunity to serve him and Demacia, I accepted his offer out of a mix of gratitude and necessity: my old life had been demolished, my father dead and no home to call my own. The prospect of remaining by his side and finally having a home to call my own... these were two things I could not pass up." Shyvana glared at the table and took a deep breath. She stole a look at Lady Catherine and was stunned to see tears welling in the queen's eyes. "Ma'am?"

She cracked a massive smile and glanced away, accepting a handkerchief from Noel and dabbing at her eyes. "I'm sorry, I had heard you two had been through a lot, but I wasn't aware about just how close you two were."

"I feel as if I haven't seen him in ages and now I'm starting to wonder if that wasn't but a lie." Shyvana wore a sad smile. "I would have thought he would have come and visited at least once, or maybe sent for me, but I haven't heard anything from him." She pressed her hands into her lap, twiddling her thumbs nervously.

"No, I'm pretty sure that is quite true, young lady, and with a history like that, Jarvan was right to bring you to Demacia. You've got my respect, more than you could imagine." Catherine mused, shaking her head with an affectionate smile. "Jarvan is quite taken with you, my dear, and he's been trying to come visit you for a while now, and I can see why now." Catherine shook her head, the smile fading slightly as a mix of concern and annoyance replaced it. "The problem is he actually got in a shoving match with his father two days ago, which has resulted in his current position."

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but is Jarvan alright?" Shyvana said, looking hopeful. Catherine took a deep breath and frowned.

"I'm not quite sure if he's alright or not." She said, looking down at the table. "His father, the king, has been putting Jarvan under substantial mental stress, pushing him hard to try and keep him busy while he evaluates what is going on with my son right now."

"Did Jarvan do something wrong?" Shyvana said worriedly. "I had heard he was under house arrest, but if I've had anything to do with these problems..."

"No, no, it's a much greater problem than simply the lover of our disobedient son, to put it in layman's terms." Catherine shook her head slightly, ignoring how Shyvana blushed. "The entire world is being shaken up right now and the king is scrambling to maintain order and peace in Demacia. The Institute of War is taking a very hands-off approach to what could turn out to be a major geopolitical incident waiting to happen across the rest of Valoran, and tensions are high. Ionia and Noxus are on the verge of a war if the Institute doesn't step in soon. It may not show in Demacia right now, but both Noxus and Ionia are in turmoil over the approaching rematch for Ionia's freedom. Having Jarvan return at such a time has been both a boon and a problem, and that antagonizes the king."

"He's your son though, how could that be a problem?" Shyvana said, frowning slightly.

"It's become just one more piece of the puzzle my husband chooses to juggle." Catherine said, shaking her head and letting her shoulders slump just slightly, revealing a worried spouse, not the regal queen of a country. "He loves Jarvan more than anyone in the world, even me, but they're so much alike that they butt heads because their views on how to accomplish a goal differs. As you probably know, my son Jarvan is very headstrong and would rather fight his way through a situation, or intimidate and conquer a foe. My husband on the other hand, has his roots deeply based in the Demacian Security Brigade. He is both a thinker and a planner, with a spider's web of intrigue and plotting just out of public view at any one moment. He thrives in influencing politics from the shadows, stepping out to throw his massive political weight around when he needs to. I think he would prefer to simply return to his command over the Demacian Security Brigade rather than be commander-in-chief. He thrived and made a name for himself there among those who enjoyed playing those games."

"This is part of the reason that you and Jarvan have been quarantined from each other." Catherine said evenly. "My husband's paranoia knows no bounds, and his desire and obligation to keep the country safe has to come before his love for his kin. There are certain foes who would seek out Jarvan and try to corrupt him for their own reasons, be it to use him against Demacia, or to try and influence the balance of power. With his return, we can both ensure his safety and maneuver a bit more freely." Catherine offered Shyvana a thin smile, though there didn't seem to be any malcontent or malice hidden in it. "You however, pose a unique dilemma."

"I do?" Shyvana looked surprised. "Well I mean I _am_ part dragon..." Shyvana said, giggling a bit much considering what was being discussed. Shyvana tipped her cookie up as if she were trying to take a swig from a flask. She blinked a few times, confused and then examined what she held in her hand. Shyvana blushed furiously, realizing what she had done and went back to nibbling on the cookie, trying to act like it had never happened. Noel chuckled softly and the queen smiled, though it didn't last long on her face.

"It's not quite that simple, unfortunately." Catherine murmured, leaning back in her chair just a bit. "You, Miss Shyvana, are in the unique position of being extremely close to Jarvan. This makes you both a target and the greatest weapon anyone could ever use against Jarvan, and thus the greatest weapon anyone could every use against the king."

"I would never hurt Jarvan or Demacia!" Shyvana said slapping her hands down on the table, the haunting memories of a set of faint scars on Jarvan neck coming to mind. She seated herself and blushed slightly. "Excuse me."

"It's quite alright." Catherine said, her smile growing just a bit, her blue eyes beginning to warm up to the dragoness. "I would have been more surprised for you react otherwise if something of the sort was suggested, but that's not precisely what I was talking about." She held up a hand to forestall a comment. "You, as Jarvan's significant other, wife, girlfriend, lover, whatever you choose to remain or become, can be used to threaten Jarvan's life and sanity." Shyvana looked terrified, but Catherine set her jaw and pushed on. "He cares so deeply about you that if you were ever put in a situation of danger or peril, he would do anything and everything with his power to rescue you. He could be forced into betraying his country, his people, his own family if you were put in danger." Shyvana's face burned. "While I have no qualm with my son falling in love on a personal level, your safety and position is one that must always be considered." Catherine took a deep breath and let her face soften a bit. Shyvana took a deep breath and nodded slowly.

"I am strong, and Jarvan knows that." Shyvana said quietly, meeting the queen's gaze. "While I may not have understood at first, I do understand the stress and responsibility that Jarvan is burdened with, and while I may not be able to offer any direct assistance, I am willing to offer and give him anything that he needs in support." She tried to maintain a firm gaze with the queen as she spoke, though color started to flood her cheeks. She glanced away and took a deep breath, trying to maintain a calm and firm demeanor.

"I admire your conviction." Lady Catherine said with a smile. "It's impressive to see how dedicated you are to my idiot son, despite the pain you've been through. It's refreshing to see such passion."

"Thank you." Shyvana said blushing a deeper shade of red. She sat back, sinking into her seat as if a large weight had been removed from her shoulders. She took a deep breath and looked down into her mug at the brown swirling contents, exhaling with a smile on her face. She finished the last of her cocoa off, licking her lips. "That was delicious." Lady Catherine and Noel chuckled together, causing Shyvana to blush again.

"You're a lot like a child in some ways." The queen said softly smiling as she leaned on her hand. "You seem so innocent and happy with the simple things in life."

"I don't need much to be happy." Shyvana said, her face now a steady pink. "I lived my entire life up till now with next to nothing. I would be lying if I didn't say how overwhelmed I've been since I arrived in Demacia. The sights, smells, food and experiences have been simply stunning and if it weren't for the fighting and training I've been doing, I think my head would have exploded by now." Noel and Shyvana laughed softly as the queen smiled.

"Living in a city like this can be quite different from the country life." Lady Catherine agreed.

"I know I may not be nobility or even Demacian yet, but I care more for Jarvan than I value my own life." Shyvana said quietly. "I... I-I love him." Her face turned a deep shade of red as she spoke the words. She tried to drop her head and hide behind her bangs, but with the hair clips and hairpins, she couldn't escape anything.

"I can see that quite clearly now." Catherine said, smiling and chuckling a bit, handing the handkerchief back to Noel. "Thank you Noel. And for you, Miss Shyvana, I'll have a talk with my husband about rescinding his quarantine. You've convinced me with your passion and intensity that this is love in its truest and purest form." She shook her head, smiling. "I don't know if I can sway him to your side, but I can try to do at least this much for returning my son to me safely." She looked saddened for a moment but then gave Shyvana a brave smile. "Hopefully you can help Jarvan through these stressful times. I know he probably needs it right now."

"Thank you." Shyvana said, blushing deeply again, but smiling happily.

"I think I should be thanking you for bringing my son back." Lady Catherine said, smiling happily now. She chuckled softly.

"It's the least I could do for what I owe Jarvan." Shyvana said with a blushy grin. "I have a question though."

"Please, ask away." The queen said, nodding.

"What would make a good Snowdown gift for Jarvan?" The queen looked surprised but laughed and nodded. "I wasn't aware of many of the traditions, but Noel had started to explain of them to me and though it would be a good idea to get him a gift of some sort."

"He's my son... and I wish I knew." Lady Catherine said, a small smile fading from her lips. She sighed heavily, the weariness appearing on her face, wrinkles and lines appearing as she sunk back a few inches into her seat. She lost her regal appearance, the royalty that surrounded her, reverting to that of a worried parent.

"You could always polish his lance for him." Noel said bluntly. Shyvana glared at Noel and blushed deeply as Noel realized what she had just implied. "No, no, no! I mean you can have his armor and lance cleaned and refurbished by a smithy! I didn't mean... I..." Noel blushed and glared at the table. Lady Catherine laughed aloud, having to cover her mouth with her hand to stifle the sound. Shyvana stared at the table, her cheeks nearly the same shade of red as her hair.

"Well... let's see if we can't think of a proper gift while we wait for dinner then." Lady Catherine grinned. As they did their best to compose themselves, Shyvana nodded happily and Noel chuckled a bit, smiling.

"That would be wonderful." Shyvana beamed.


	14. Chapter 13: Reunion

"So what purpose did it serve to start a shouting match with our son, dear?" Lady Catherine frowned as she stared out the window towards one of the opposite towers where her son's quarters were located. She slowly ran her comb through her long brown hair as she rested on the cushions, nestled up to the large window, snow just beginning to fall outside.

"He needs to learn his place." The king growled as he leaned over the basin in the bathroom. "He is of royal blood and must learn to act as such. If he's unable to accept such simple criticisms and responsibilities, then he has no right to his lineage."

"You're one to speak of accepting criticism and responsibility." Catherine muttered under her breath as she leaned up against the window, sighing heavily.

"Hmm?" The king grunted, sticking his head out of the bathroom with a frown on his face, mumbling something as he brushed his teeth. The queen sighed as the king let out a string of unintelligible sounds.

"How many times must I tell you; I can't understand you when you try to talk like that?" The queen shook her head, but wore an affectionate smile. She looked back out the window while she waited, the smile becoming conflicted as she watched the light in the opposite tower go out.

"You were saying?" The king ran a towel over his face, wiping the water from his beard where he had washed the residue from the toothpaste away.

"Why must you torment our son so?" Catherine said, a frown crossing her face. "You may be his commander, but you're also his father, and ever since he has returned, I don't think you've acted even remotely as such."

"Catherine..." Jarvan III began to say as he stepped out of the bathroom, tossing the towel onto a side table. He wore a frown and his eyes lacked any intensity at all as he glanced at the floor. They were neither sharp nor dangerous; they looked empty.

"If you expect sympathy from me about this situation, you're not going to find solace in my arms." She said firmly, glancing back to the window and crossing her arms over her chest. "You're systematically destroying your relationship with your only son, and you're only going to push him to the breaking point if this continues much longer."

"You know I'm only doing this to prepare him for what's to come..." Jarvan III said evenly, the hesitation evident in his voice.

"What else are you planning on doing?" Catherine said, her voice starting to get louder and slightly more shrill. "Toss him into the sea to see if he sinks or floats? I can't imagine there's much else you can put him through short of blatantly torturing him!"

Jarvan III posted his fists upon his hips. "Catherine, I shall raise my son as I-..."

"As what? As you see fit?" Catherine hissed angrily. "I read the reports, Trey. The man Jarvan viewed as his father, one of the two people who raised him, died to save his life and to protect the women he loved. And you're going to stand here and tell me our son is the one at fault?"

"I raised my son to be the finest soldier Demacia has ever seen!" the king snarled. "He _IS_ the exemplar of Demacia!"

"You did nothing of the sort!" Catherine snarled back, the venom in her voice enough to quell the king's anger and force him to take a step back. "Jarvan Lightshield IV was raised by two people: Noel Halsington and Valin Isaacs. They molded him into what he is today, and I don't know if it's fear, jealously, or anger you hold in your heart for your son right now, but so help me, _dear_, I will not stand for this humiliation and torture you are putting him through." Her voice was as sharp as a blade and from the look that the king wore, it cut in a similar manner.

"Catherine..." He began to say, stepping towards her with and arm outstretched.

"Don't come near me." She hissed back at him as tears began to drip down her face. "I was hardly a parent to that poor boy either, so you can call me a hypocrite all you want, but I won't stand idly by and watch as you destroy his life a second time. I made the mistake of taking my son for granted once before, and for two years I worried myself sick, thinking he held it against me. I drove myself to the point of exhaustion and pain because of my worries. If he had died during that time... I don't know if I would have ever forgiven myself."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Catherine..." Jarvan began to say softly.

She spun and faced him, anger blazing in her soft blue eyes, tears pouring down her face. "I didn't do anything at all!" She said, her voice cracking. "And that's exactly why I hate myself right now. Our son returned alive, but he is different, he's harder and more reserved. So much has changed and he won't hardly look at me."

"His temper certainly hasn't changed at all..." The king said quietly.

"And neither has yours, so clearly shown by the scene you decided was necessary to put on display in front of several hundred onlookers." Catherine snipped. "I nearly lost my son once, and I refuse to let you drive him away now that he's returned. I want to make up for all the neglect I showed before and now you're denying him the one thing he truly cares about right now."

"Don't tell me you're siding with him about that silly little dragon girl." The king rolled his eyes and turned away shaking his head.

"And that is exactly why you're alienating your son!" Catherine said, sympathy and pain cutting through her voice. "You refuse to even consider her. You refuse to even THINK about your son's feelings. You don't know anything about her, so how can you be so dead set against her!?"

"You just said it yourself!" The king growled, with frustration mounting in his voice. "I know nothing about her!"

"SO SIT DOWN AND HAVE TEA WITH HER." Catherine shouted, her face red with anger. Her shoulders rapidly rose and fell as she huffed and puffed, her face contorted with anger. "Something. Anything. I refuse to stand idly by while you destroy our family because for once, your son isn't following your orders and directions to the letter."

"But..." The king started to stammered, frowning.

"No, shut your damn mouth." Catherine snapped. "You and I had an arranged marriage, yes, it happens sometimes. We grew up together and we knew each other much longer than... than... who is he engaged to exactly?"

"Elvarran Brightstorm." The king said, setting his jaw.

"I don't even know who that is." The queen said, shaking her head. "Look, I want you to rescind your petty quarantine between Shyvana and Jarvan."

"So she's 'Shyvana' now, is she?" The king growled, looking as if he had been betrayed.

"Yes, she has a name." The queen said tightly, a frown on her face. "If you have any pittance of respect for your son, you'll respect at least his choice of partner. That starts with at least treating her with basic human rights, despite her not being entirely human herself. She's had a hard life, Trey, she deserves a home and Jarvan is trying to give her one." She took a deep breath, a weary look crossing her face. "Please, Trey. I lost Jarvan once and I don't want to lose him again. If you love your son as much as I think you do, please... just let him be happy for once."

"I wish it were that simple." The king said, shaking his head as she slumped down on the bed.

"What left do you have to worry about?" Lady Catherine said with a frown. "You've run endless security checks, you're having her beat to a pulp by her superiors over and over, and you're subjecting her to embarrassment, harassment and ridicule at the hand of your troops, and she's done nothing to warrant any of this suspicion. Has even a single problem, a mote of alarm, appeared on her horizon?"

"No, and that's exactly what worries me!" The king said, letting a bit of anger slip into his voice. "What changed? Why are you suddenly such an advocate of the young dragon-girl?"

"I had the chance to meet her." The queen said defiantly. Surprise crossed the king's face, something the queen had not seen in years. "She's just a sweet, nervous, worried young woman with a good head on her shoulders and passionate heart in her chest. I hardly see an issue with her."

"She's only half human!" The king exclaimed.

"That's still half more than you right now." The queen snapped back, completely silencing the king's protests. His jaw hung open before too long and he finally snapped his jaw shut.

"Catherine..." The king started to say something but a single glare from the queen silenced his qualms.

"You've listened to me in the past about matters of state and international politics." The queen harkened back to the days when she had actively served as his political adviser. It hadn't been long since they had actively served on the council together, but recently the queen had stepped down due in part to ailing health and stress from family issues and the upcoming prospects of war. Her health had suffered from stress and the pain of loss, "Why can't you listen to me regarding our only son?"

The king's shoulders slumped and he shook his head as he looked at the stone floor beneath his bare feet. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed and sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. "Fine. I'll rescind the quarantine. I still have plenty of reservations but for now... whatever." The king lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, a dark frown on his face.

"Now, now... that wasn't that hard, was it?" Catherine said, her expression lightening as she sat down on the edge of the bed next to him.

"I just hope I don't regret it." The king growled, shaking his head.

"I don't think you will." The queen said, wrapping her arms around her husband. "She's a brave and smart young woman. I think she'll be fine."

"It's not her I'm worried about right now." The king closed his eyes as exhaustion crept over him.

"Worried about Jarvan are you?" The queen said, sighing. She wore a smile as she settled down on the bed next to her husband. She poked him, waiting for an answer, but she only got a snort and a rumble of his snoring. She chuckled softly as she waved her hand, extinguishing the hextech lanterns.

_You may be a pompous old fool, but at least you're not completely heartless._ She lay back, imagining the cute young woman she had met that evening reuniting with her son. She smiled to herself as she greeted sleep like an old friend, the excitement of the day before finally catching up with her.

* * *

Jarvan sat at his desk and watched as the morning snow drifted past his window. The large, snow laden clouds hung in the air high above and the air was frigid, the window frosted along the corners where snow had settled on the outside of the window sill. He spun in his chair to face his desk as he waited, watching the clock upon the wall. Soon, it would strike noon and then lunch would arrive, and then after that, more endless waiting. Jarvan's temper had long subsided and now he was only annoyed about his situation, waiting for whatever his father had set up for him when he was released from this mind numbing sentence.

"Day five of this endless boredom." Jarvan sighed and leaned on his desk. He glanced around the room at all of the tomes that were stacked up against every wall of the room from the research and work he and his subordinates had done for the meeting. He had read most all of them through, or at least leafed through the pages, browsing the records for anything that could have possibly been important. He had compiled all of the occasions and incidents where something seemed out of the ordinary, though many of the dates and unit names he had come across were correct, at least on paper, there were a few here and there that referenced units or soldiers that didn't exist in any of the other records. Jarvan had pulled the odd ones out and set them aside, doing his best to try and cross reference existing units here and there to find anything he could have missed.

Jarvan pushed himself to his feet and stepped away from his desk, looking to the bookshelf he had repurposed to serve as a board to plot his findings upon. He parted the tapestry that hung over top of the bookshelf, hiding it from common view, revealing the web of deceit he had been slowly trying to decipher. A winding trail of scraps of paper, notes on each, had been pinned along the wall with thumbtacks, each holding firm against the wood of the shelves or the spine of the many ancient books that littered his shelves. Snaking along the papers, string marked the strange occurrences and the events he considered the most important.

Jarvan started at the top, setting his jaw and frowning darkly as he read the notes scribbled on the square of parchment. The first note read _'Birth of Swain. -50 CLE?' _Jarvan frowned. There was no recorded date of Swain in any of the Demacian archives, but he had tracked back the furthest report of the phantom units he could find around thirty years before the establishment of the Institute of War. He had extrapolated about twenty years, because swain could have been anywhere in the age range of fifty to seventy and he was erring on the side of Swain getting the benefit of the doubt. The first recorded event he had found with a mystery unit was during the last great border war between Demacia and Noxus, thirty years or so before the establishment of the Institute.

The mystery unit had been a company that didn't seem to exist and had smashed through the flanks of the Demacian Defensive line, posted along the border between Noxus and Demacia. Records pointed out several different fallacies as far as information about the company was concerned, though the only things available were what had been gathered by scouts before the unit retreated and disappeared again. While the Demacians had scrambled to repair their defensive lines, little had been done to monitor or track the company and it had disappeared. The only real, hard bit of information they had been able to gather was that the unit was not a special forces unit as initial reports had suspected. The standard Noxian uniforms had been observed being worn by the company that had appeared and disappeared again, and only standard arms and armor had been employed. The smacked of Swain, who was infamous for his intuitive tactical sense for finding the weakest point in enemy lines and breaking straight through, but the strangest thing that had stood out to Jarvan was the fact that the unit had retreated and disappeared as quickly as it had first appeared. They had struck hard and fast, inflicting a multitude of casualties and driving a spike deep into the heart of the Demacian formations. Then they had simply vanished. Jarvan had looked for any other occurrences with a unit that displayed even remotely similar tactics or actions, but there had been nothing for him to find.

Jarvan glowered as he moved towards the second occurrence on his trail, tracing his finger along the string.

"Second occurrence: Marshes of Kaladoun." Jarvan frowned as he looked at the map he had posted on the wall next to his trail of information. The marshes were located north east of Demacia, serving as one of the largest tributaries of the Serpentine river which ran north to the small port town of Kaladoun and deposited into the Conqueror's Sea. The massive, slow moving was fed with hundreds of small tributaries, many of which started from the lowlands east of Demacia, such as the Bubbling Bog and the Howling Marsh. Both the marsh and the bog were sites of ancient battles, the peat thick with nutrients from decomposed bodies. Jarvan turned back to his notes about the Marshes of Kaladoun, a frown returning to his face.

_Minus twenty-seven CLE: disappearance of Personis and Fulcore platoons of the Second Battalion's Archron Company. _The company had been dispatched into the Marshes on one of the many regular sweeps of the area to ensure no Noxian units were looking to penetrate the Demacian lines for a straight shot at the capital. The bogs were misty and nigh-impassible, but that hadn't stopped smugglers or refugees from trying to cross them for entrance to or fro Demacia before, and Demacian Command wasn't willing to risk it. Jarvan himself had the displeasure of taking a unit into the Marshes early in his career, to try and rescue a family who had gotten trapped in the bog. The scene had been grizzly when they had finally arrived, the bog beasts having devoured the family, only leaving blood and mud splattered possessions flung around a smashed raft. Jarvan shivered, trying desperately to banish the memory. The bog beasts had only left scraps of cloth. A dangerous cross between a bear and a crocodile, the bog beasts were massive territorial predators who protected the marshes. They were the stuff of legends and nightmares, and their simple name 'bog beasts' had stuck.

He turned back to his notes after running a hand over his face. Kaladoun was not something he maintained fond memories about. The two platoons had been doing a routine sweep of the marshes when it had supposedly run into a congregation of bog beasts and had been wiped out. The curious parts were notes from the officers who had overseen the attempted recovery of Fulcore and Personis platoons. The Captain, an officer Bithowzer', charged with investigating the disappearances had reported the blood splatter and remnants of the boats the platoons had been using had been surprisingly uniform in their destruction, as if they had been destroyed in exactly the same manner, which indicated that it was possible the bog beasts had either been lucky or the boats had been taken out by a single creature one by one. The officer had dismissed it, and so had Jarvan at first, but there was one thing that had stood out to him about the officers report. The Captain had made a specific note about a flock of ravens. Most creatures avoided the bog completely, even birds, but the ravens hadn't fled.

Jarvan suspected the birds had either belonged or were under some sort of spell of Swain's, but there was no proof or any follow up, only the messily scrawled note that had been jotted down in the margins of the captains report. Jarvan had put two and two together and he had realized that it was likely humans that had killed the men, rather than bog beasts. Jarvan traced his finger along a piece of string that diverged from the main trail from the Kaladoun Note, leading to another scrap of paper. The note on the scrap read '_Death of Captain Bithowzer, mental insanity._' When Jarvan had looked into the background of the Captain Bithowzer, he had found reports from his sudden admittance into the Demacian General Hospital, under sudden pleas of insanity and beasts tormenting his dreams. He had been called _'extremely down to Runeterra_' and _'exceptionally competent_' by previous officers, so the sudden mental breakdown had seemed out of place to Jarvan. He had tried to find out more about the officer, but his trail struck a dead end as he had searched. Bithowzer had committed suicide, overdosing while in the hospital. There was no indication of what sort of medication that he had used, but the report from the hospital was surprisingly gruesome as well, stating the officer had smashed both hands open and broken multiple bones in his hands to break open a medicine cabinet from which the drugs had been taken just outside his room. The man had managed to kill a night nurse by ripping her throat out after crying out in pain. The entire scene was disturbing, and the report still sent shivers down Jarvan's spine.

Jarvan ran his fingers down the rest of the string trail to where it exploded into numerous other reports at the very bottom, all dead ends. The entire thing was a series of strange occurrences, disappearances, mysterious Noxian Military units that didn't seem to exist and the progressive death of witnesses here and there. Jarvan shook his head, examining the different pieces of the puzzle that seemed to lead to nowhere. He glowered, looking down to the most recent occurrences, a cluster of about ten that seemed out of place. He ran his hand over one in particular, hesitating as he glared at the furthest down, just above waist height.

_DDS Excursion. Lost with all hand in the Conqueror's Sea, off the Freljordian Coast. Noxian-Zaunite necromancy_. Jarvan frowned. The trail ended there, but there were a number of different other notes that lead off from the scrap of paper. All sorts of odd things that had made the news and seemed to be related, though Jarvan could hardly tie any of the definitively to the destruction of the Excursion. Short of some sort of cargo manifest or something, the trail seemed to be utterly cold, frozen on the shores of the Freljord.

Jarvan crossed his arms as he looked over the bits of string that ran outwards from the Excursion. The next scrap of paper he settled on was something he had recovered from the reports from Kalamanda rather than actual Demacian records from the Archives. Security Forces of the Institute of War had been attacked during the night a handful of months before Jarvan had passed through the region. A soldier had died in the attack defending the garrison south of Kalamanda, just above the entrance to Mogron Pass. What little information Demacia had managed to get from the Institute had hardly served to help Jarvan's investigation, only a few notes on the attackers, mostly that they were deformed humanoids that were smaller than normal humans and while their numbers had been small, they had passed through, taking some casualties. While Jarvan didn't think it was something Swain had been responsible for, he hadn't ruled out the fact that it had been engineered to draw attention from somewhere else. Jarvan pondered the occurrence for a few moments but glowered, shaking his head as he moved to the next. Without any information, the report was another dead end.

The next note Jarvan had made was again tied to Kalamanda. A bar brawl in the Hasty Hammer Tavern that had erupted in the late evening of a Saturday had drawn his attention because there didn't seem to be any claims of who started the incident. Demacian and Noxian forces were notorious for constantly blaming each other for starting conflicts, but here, it just seemed as if the conflict had started from nothing. He frowned. It had taken the entire Kalamanda Constabulary, several local miners and two League Champions, Garen and Katarina, to break up the fight. While on the surface, it hadn't looked out of the ordinary, Jarvan had dug a bit deeper and tried to find out if any other crimes had occurred that evening. As he had looked around, the startling realization he had made was the both Demacian and Kalamandan attention had solely been concentrated on the tavern brawl. Hours upon hours of crime could have occurred, and though no investigations had followed, Jarvan had a sinking suspicion that something that happened in the time frame. What it could have been Jarvan didn't know, but as he let his finger hover on the pin that held the paper to his spider plot of theories, he had to wonder if this was his best bet to follow.

Jarvan tried to snarl in anger as he spun away, his frustrations manifesting aloud as he leaned heavily on the desk and shook his head. Jarvan raised a fist and stuck the surface of his desk, bouncing the contents with a rattle. "If only I could get out of this goddamned room!"

Jarvan's mind had been racing over the last few days, be it rehashing his growing resentment towards his father, his desire to see Shyvana, his worries over Forsythe, or the incredible itch to uncover what was going on in Noxus. The map he had created had helped keep his mind busy but there were so many loose ends he was now only growing frustrated. Jarvan hesitated as he glared down at two scraps of paper he had yet to post. He pushed himself up off the desk and palmed both pieces of paper, the dark frown he wore deepening. He turned back to his map and held both pieces of paper up. On the first piece of paper, the notes read '_Disappearance of Marcus Du Couteau leads to promotion of Swain.'_ Jarvan had a sinking feeling that this was one of the most important occurrences to date, but he still couldn't directly tie the event into his trail of mysteries. It didn't help that the date of the actual disappearance he had been given by Katarina didn't match the reports given from the news by Noxian public records or what Demacian intelligence had managed to gather. Jarvan growled as he looked over some of the different notes he found possible to tie it to, be it his capture and attempted execution over two years previous, or something more recent such as the disappearance of the Excursion. Without any information, there was nothing he could do to place it, and for now the scrap of paper didn't have a place on the board, it was simply another mystery upon mysteries. Jarvan wished he could ask Katarina about the issue, but that would be tantamount to treason, and treason led to death, something Jarvan didn't really feel like dealing with at the moment, especially considering his current predicament.

The other was possibly the single largest occurrence that had yet to not find a place on his board. '_Noxian-Ionian rematch.'_ That was the only thing that Jarvan had scribbled onto the paper, the rest was self-explanatory. Outcries from Ionia had prompted a response from Noxus, and in a move that surprised every constituent of Valoran, General Boram Darkwill had consented to allow Ionia a chance to reclaim their freedom. Again, Jarvan felt his frustrations at a lack of information. The decision had completely blindsided Demacia as a whole, and while there had been huge amounts of public outcry in support of Ionia, Noxus had never been a city-state to wither before pressure from the populace, for not even political pressure had swayed them before. Jarvan wished he could speak to Katarina again, the huge number of questions that were shrouded in the fog of prospective war and strife continued to muddle Jarvan's map.

Though there were two large gaps that remained between the disappearance of Du Couteau and the Ionian Rematch, the scariest part that Jarvan was in the dark about was the long term goal. With the steady gain of power, he could only see the long term goal revolving around the Eternal General, Boran Darkwill, and with it, the helm of Noxus. With such a strong nation under his control, Swain and the mysterious 'L' Katarina suspected him of working with, there would be risk of a major war. As decisive and aggressive as Swain was, there was a certain amount of fear that Demacia would be in trouble. If Jarvan wasn't able to head this off at the pass, to stop the issue from growing worse, the sanctity of his nation, family and life would be at risk.

_But why risk something as foolish as war?_

A knock at the door interrupted Jarvan's brooding.

Jarvan frowned, glancing at the clock, realizing that it wasn't quite time for his lunch yet and he hadn't been notified that there was a visitor coming. For someone to make a unscheduled visit like this, they would have to be extremely powerful. Jarvan could only put his finger of three of four people total that could do something like this; the king, the queen, General Lorcan or Councilor Crownguard. He sighed as he covered his map with a tapestry that had hung over the wall mounted book cases where he had started plotting his discoveries. Jarvan pocketed the two scraps of paper he had been holding and then stood up a bit straighter, smoothing his uniform out.

"Enter." Though Jarvan uttered the word like a command, he knew that if too much time passed, the guards would enter regardless of what he said. The door opened and Sergeant Delancey stepped inside, saluting him regardless of the fact that he was technically in her custody. "How can I assist you, Sergeant? I don't think it's quiet time for lunch yet." Jarvan stood stiffly watching the sergeant with an even gaze.

"Apologies for the short notice, sir." Delancey said, with a bit of a grin emerging on her face. "But orders from the top. You're to be released from custody at once."

Jarvan blinked several times and stood up straighter, surprise clear on his face. "What?"

"Yes, sir." Delancey said, her smile growing wider. "You've got two visitors in the mean time."

"I, well, show them in then." Jarvan sank backwards a bit, leaning heavily on his desk. _What changed?_

"Long time, no see, Captain Lightshield." A short woman with long, snow white hair stepped through the doorway, grinning happily as she snapped off a salute. She wore the crisp fatigues of an off duty palace guardsman, a heavy issue winter cloak swept back over one shoulder.

"Alicia?" Jarvan said, blinking, surprise clear on his face again. He shook his head and grinned. "It's Lieutenant Colonel, now, actually." Jarvan said shrugging as she grinned toothily. "What are you doing here?"

"Congratulations on the promotion." Alicia said, glancing towards the doorway. "But I didn't come for a reunion. I brought a friend who was too shy to come alone."

"A friend?" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow. _Who would she bring that wanted to visit me?_

"Stop worrying and come in here already!" Alicia said, looking into the outer room. She posted her fists on her hips and frowned angrily, glaring a bit as she stared into the room beyond. Jarvan couldn't hear the response that got uttered, but from the look on Alicia face and the laughter that Alicia let out told him something was up. "Oh don't worry about it! You look adorable like this." Another pause and Alicia turned to Jarvan rolled her eyes and sighed. "She's been nervous about this all day. I've been trying to convince her not to worry but she's still iffy about the clothes I picked out for her."

Jarvan frowned, wondering just who Alicia was talking about. _Who...?_

"Fine." The voice muttered. "I still feel ridiculous." Jarvan's heart stopped.

Shyvana stepped clear of the door. She was blushing furiously as she stepped into the room, a long dark skirt cascading around her, a heavy fur lined cloak on her shoulders, hiding a simple overcoat that shown the Demacian colors, matching the dark blue scarf that was wrapped around her neck. Her red hair had been pulled back into a tighter braid than Jarvan had ever seen her wearing. Her hair was bright red and clean, and hair clips littered her hair, trying to keep it tamed. Jarvan felt color begin to burn his cheeks as he started at her, his jaw slightly ajar. Shyvana's magenta eyes sparkled brilliantly as she smiled at him.

"Hi, Jarvan." Shyvana said with a small voice.

"What do you think?" Alicia said, a broad grin on her face. "I made her clean up and dressed her up to come and see you as soon as we heard you were going to be released. She was as giddy as a school girl all the way up here... I don't know what suddenly changed." Alicia tapped Shyvana on the back, giving her a push, but Shyvana's face simply burned a brighter shade of red.

"Be quiet, June..." Shyvana hissed nervously. She tried to meet Jarvan's gaze but her face burned an even brighter red, nearly the color of her hair. Jarvan watched as a few stray snowflakes from the top of her head started to steam. Jarvan clicked his jaw shut and felt a smile grow on his face.

"Hey, Shy..." Jarvan said, struggling for words. Tears began to well in Shyvana's eyes as she looked up to meet his eyes, desperately struggling to wipe them away before they formed. "W-what's wrong?" Jarvan took half a step forward as Shyvana screwed her face up and fit Jarvan with an angry look.

"You!" She shouted, taking Jarvan by surprise. He stumbled backwards, hitting his desk and he had to lean heavily on it to not tumble over. The admission had staggered him.

"Me?" Jarvan gasped, blinking rapidly. "What'd I do?"

"You never once came to visit me!" Shyvana snapped, struggling to hold the tears back. "I haven't seen you since we got here! Is that how you treat the woman who loves you?" She took a step forward as she had to wipe her eyes again. She shook her head and took another half step forward, glaring at Jarvan. "It's been horrible! Everyone but June treats me like some more of freak!"

"Hold on..." Jarvan stammered, raising his hands defensively as if they would block the torrent of words Shyvana was throwing at him.

"You're such a..." She stammered, her voice trailing off. She looked to the ground as she tugged on her braid, tucking her chin into her scarf to hide her face, long red bangs hiding her magenta eyes. "Such a..."

"Shyvana?" Jarvan said gently. Shyvana suddenly sprinted forward, leaping at Jarvan and flying through the air at him with arms outstretched. "Hold on—WHOA!" Shyvana wrapped her arms around his neck as he yelped, the two of them colliding. She barreled Jarvan backwards over his desk, sending him crashing to the ground on the opposite side.

"Shyvana..." Jarvan started to say but she pushed herself up to stare down at him. Tears dripped from her magenta eyes, her hair hanging around them like a curtain.

"Shut up!" She said fiercely, her face a mess as she looked as if she were about to completely burst into tears."You... you're such an idiot!" Shyvana pushed her face into Jarvan's neck and hugged him close, breathing in his scent as her shoulder quaked. Shyvana pushed herself up and glared down at Jarvan. He blinked away the pain he felt in his tail frown hitting the ground, and stared up at Shyvana as tears now poured down her face. She tried to wipe them away, but they kept coming, dripping down her face.

"Shy..." Jarvan said softly.

"I missed you so much!" Shyvana wailed as she dropped onto Jarvan and wrapped her arms around his neck again. "Idiot!"

"Hey now, don't be mean..." Jarvan said, grinning as he wrapped his arms around the dragoness, pulling her warm little body against his, letting the warmth flow through him. Shyvana pushed herself up and sniffed, trying to wipe the tears away.

"I should beat the tar out of you for doing this... getting yourself arrested." Shyvana pouted, glancing away, her face a bright red color. Jarvan chuckled as he cupped her cheek in his hand wiping a tear away with his thumb. Shyvana nuzzled his hand as a smile broke through on her face and she giggled a bit as she lowered her face down to Jarvan and kissed him deeply.

"I missed you too." Jarvan said with a crooked grin when Shyvana finally had to come up for air. Shyvana laid her head against Jarvan's chest and closed her eyes, smiling happily as she pulled herself against Jarvan, content to be back in his arms.

Jarvan let his head fall back against the ground, smiling.

_Life is already looking up._


	15. Chapter 14: Date

"So where are we headed?" Shyvana asked as she stared skyward, watching as heavy snowflakes twirled down around her. She wore a large smile and she opened her mouth every once in a while to let a snowflake land on her tongue. Jarvan grinned as he watched her bounce about, doing her best to catch snowflakes, but the heat of her breath often melted them before they landed, clouds of steam emanating from her mouth as she huffed angrily when a large one completely floated past her tongue.

"Just to visit some old friends." Jarvan said softly, still watching as Shyvana danced ahead and struggled to catch a massive snowflake. She giggled happily as she finally caught it, though it melted almost instantly on her tongue. The streets weren't heavily packed; many people not willing to venture out in the heavy snow. Though it had been falling through most of the night before and into the midday, there wasn't much upon the streets. The Demacian Works Department was doing their best to keep the streets open and clear, using magic to move the snow out of the streets. Jarvan could see that the snow was nearly knee deep off the beaten path.

"So. Where are you from?" Delancey strode slightly ahead of them and she looked slightly bored as she walked down the street.

"How about you explain why you're following us?" Shyvana said with a frown on her face as she wrapped an arms tighter around Jarvan's arm, gripping his hand.

"Well, technically, you're following me." Delancey said with a cheeky grin. Shyvana stamped her foot, but Jarvan cut her off before the dragoness could snap a retort back. Jarvan chuckled softly and gestured to Delancey.

"Shyvana, meet Sergeant Vivian Delancey." Jarvan said, coming to a halt outside a large gate. Shyvana frowned slightly at the blonde haired woman who's obnoxiously blue locks bounced with every step. Shyvana watched it with a bit of annoyance in her expression, but Delancey turned to face the dragoness and smiled. "Delancey, meet Shyvana."

"It's a pleasure to met you, ma'am." Delancey said, bowing. "Please, just call me Del." When she stood back up straight, she extended her hand from beneath her cloak, revealing her armor and uniform.

"Hello." Shyvana said hesitantly, but she accepted Delancey's hand and shook it. Shyvana glanced uncomfortably at Jarvan who was watching the exchange. He could see that Shyvana was frowning and offered her a smile that withered quickly.

"Sergeant Delancey is on my staff." Jarvan said trying not to look too grim as his face fell, looking up at the gate.

"What he's trying to say is that I'm his bodyguard." Delancey said with a grin. "One of them at least."

"Bodyguard?" Shyvana said with a frown. "Why do you need a bodyguard?" Shyvana wore a worried look as she gazed at Jarvan. He looked a bit sheepish but shrugged.

"I don't _need_ one to be honest." He chuckled softly. "But it was something my father insisted upon, and it's not like I had a choice."

"Whatever you say, sir." Delancey shrugged. "We have arrived though. Perhaps we should go and pay our respects?"

"Oh... yes, of course." Jarvan said, the enthusiasm draining from his voice. Shyvana looked up at him and frowned. Jarvan's gaze passed over top of her head, looking as something distant. Shyvana squeezed his hand but Jarvan's hand remained still.

"What is this place?" Shyvana said, her voice small. Delancey looked to Jarvan, but his expression had hardened and his mouth had thinned out into an impassible line.

"This is the Memorial of the Fallen." Delancey said reverently. "This is where Demacia pays in memoriam to those who have died away from Demacia on the field of battle. It is a sacred place for sending off the fallen and serves as a reminder to those who have served Demacia to the fullest, paying the ultimate price. To us Demacians... it is tantamount to holy ground."

Jarvan started slowly up the sloping path as it wound up the snow covered hill. Shyvana followed him as they ascended the cliff, letting him lead her up the path. Jarvan paused part was up though, there was someone already standing at the summit of the hill. Jarvan's hand twitched slightly, and Shyvana looked up at him, seeing pain thick in his eyes caused a pang of grief to strike her heart. The person who was standing atop the hill slowly moved past them, down the hill.

"Jarvan?" Shyvana said softly, tugging on his arm under his cloak.

"Hmm?" Jarvan looked down at her and she could see tears starting to form in his eyes. He wore a smile, though it was cold and distant as he looked upon her. Shyvana felt her throat begin to thicken.

_You're supposed to be the strong one..._ Shyvana shook her head and gently wrapped her arms around him, remembering how he had comforted her in the past. It was now her turn to return the favor. "It's alright, Jarvan." She said softly, looking up at him again. The pained look on his face had deepened, but his eyes were a bit warmer, as if the hug Shyvana offered him reminded him that he wasn't alone right now. "Take you time. There's no need to rush this, we have all day."

"Thank you." Jarvan said as he wrapped his arms around Shyvana, holding her close, nuzzling her hair. Shyvana couldn't help but blush, but at the same time she felt fuzzy and warm inside. "I think I'm okay now." The prince said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He released Shyvana from his embrace, but he held kept a firm grasp on her hand. Shyvana could see part of herself reflected in his eyes now as he looked back up to the summit of the monument: he looked like a young child, afraid of everything around him. Shyvana knew that terror, that feeling that the entire world is out to get you. Shyvana gave his hand a squeeze and Jarvan closed his eyes for a brief moment before he started back up the steps.

The summit was sparse, but the tracks in the snow showed just how many people had been up here despite the heavy snow that was coming down. Jarvan paused for a moment pulling the bottle he was carrying out from under his arm and glancing at it before he took a deep breath and approached the edge of the flat, open area that marked the monument. Two guards stood at attention on either side of a flag pole where the Demacian Flag whipped and snapped in the wind. It glowed brightly with some sort of magical illumination as Jarvan ground to a stop and snapped off a stiff salute. He held it for a long period of time before he dropped the gesture, a weary look passing over his face.

Shyvana hugged his arm encouragingly and Jarvan nodded his thanks, stepping past the flag to where the monument began to crumble away to the sheer cliff. The waves crashing against the rocks below reverberated up through their boots periodically, the sound and smell of the surf below cathartic in nature. Jarvan stopped mere inches from the hundred foot drop, simply staring out over the sea. Shyvana leaned forward and looked over the edge, surprise showing on her face.

"You mean every one of these flowers..." Her voice trailed off.

"Every flower is a life that was lost for the glory of Demacia and the protection of her people." Delancey said after a few moments of silence from Jarvan. Shyvana glanced back over her shoulder at the blonde woman who stood off to the side, her arms crossed over her chest. Shyvana slowly let her hand slip out of Jarvan's hand and went back to stand beside the sergeant, fidgeting nervously as she tried to hold her hands in front of her. She shook the snow from her hood as glanced back at Jarvan.

"Jarvan has lost more that most men of this age." Delancey said quietly, so as not to disturb the prince as he stood at the edge of the cliff, letting the sea wind caress him.

"There are millions of flowers down there though..." Shyvana said softly, glancing towards the ocean. Flowers floated along the surface of the water as far as the eye could see, drifting along the surface in an almost solid sheet as the waves slowly dispersed them.

"Demacia's past isn't without blood or conflict." Delancey said as a bit of sadness washed over her. "We say we're better than everyone else... but when it comes down to it, we're just a violent and bloody as anyone else in Valoran." Delancey shrugged.

"What about you?" Shyvana said quietly, looking at Delancey. Surprise crossed her face but Delancey offered the dragoness a small smile.

"I lost my mother to an attack on a field hospital many years ago." Delancey said with a shrug. "My father raised me the only way he knew how." With a small jerk of her arm, a slender blade slid from her sleeve. She palmed the blade and twirled it around her index and middle fingers, carving a glittering series of loops in the air before it vanished back up her sleeve in another quick, clean motion. "I long ago got over my grief, though."

"Oh..." Shyvana said quietly, looking back to Jarvan.

"The Lieutenant Colonel, the prince, he carries a burden much heavier than most in this day and age." Delancey said, watching the prince as he stood at the edge of the cliff still swaying slightly.

"What do you mean?" Shyvana said softly.

"Sometimes it may not appear like it, but this is an age of peace and prosperity for Valoran." Delancey said, a small frown crossing over her face. "Her people are rich in character and possession, and there is little conflict to stain the ground with blood. In that regard, Jarvan is a bit of a pariah. He is still loved by his nation, of course, but in this world, there are those that resent him for what he did to their families."

Shyvana stared at Jarvan, her heart aching in her chest. "You mean..."

"Yes. Exemplar company." Delancey said softly, nodding. "I believe he carries survivors guilt for the loss of his company. He's haunted by the loss of the men he saw as brothers and sons, and the frustration he faces is like getting mocked by his very survival."

"I see..." Shyvana said softly. "I wish I knew what I could do..."

"Don't worry about it." Delancey said, putting a hand on Shyvana shoulder and offering her a brave smile. "Jarvan's been happier seeing you than I've seen him in the last week. If your presence is all it takes to put a smile on his face, then all you need to do is be there for him." Shyvana blushed but nodded. The popping of the cork drew her attention back to the edge of the cliff. Jarvan extended his arm and held the bottle of wine out and slowly began to pour it out. The wind stole the stream away, shattering the flow into thousands of small beads of liquid, each like a tiny gem stone. Jarvan watched them fall out of sight, lost amid the blowing snow. He turned and set the bottle down next to the flag pole, kneeling for a few moments before he pushed himself back to his feet with a heavy sigh.

Jarvan turned towards Shyvana when a voice called out to him. "Lieutenant Colonel Lightshield?"

Jarvan paused and looked back over his shoulder.

"Valentine?" Jarvan turned, surprise on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there." The young blonde woman wore a heavy cloak that had obscured most of her form, the heavy hood pulled low over her face against the wind and snow. She pulled it back to reveal emerald green eyes and brown hair that was pulled back into a bun on the back of her head. She smiled softly at the prince.

"Who is that?" Shyvana said, pointing to the woman that Jarvan had now begun talking to.

"That's Valentine Isaacs." Delancey said, glancing over at Shyvana. Shyvana felt shock wash over her. _Valin had a daughter?_

"I..." Shyvana felt conflicted as she watched Jarvan smile at the young woman and give her a hug. He waved goodbye and then turned back to where Shyvana and Delancey stood waiting.

"Thank you for waiting." Jarvan said with a smile. There was sadness in his eyes that Shyvana hadn't seen before, and as Jarvan took her hand in his and started to lead her down the hill, Shyvana couldn't get the green eyes of the woman from her mind. The soft brown hair, delicate skin and emerald eyes, everything a man could want in a normal young woman. Shyvana was amazed at how cute the young woman was. Valin had been hard and crude with good intentions, but the young woman they had just parted ways with was anything but. Shyvana felt something dark in the pit of her stomach as she glanced back over her shoulder to where the woman was left standing alone on the cliff.

The journey back into the city had been a quiet one, Jarvan strolling a bit more carefree, his attitude decidedly brighter and cheerful. Delancey looked conflicted about something, lost in thought. She was constantly glancing over her shoulder, but she looked unconvinced about what ever she was worried about.

They ended up on Merchant's Street, the colorful decorations and bountiful smells serving to improve Shyvana's mood as she and Jarvan strolled along, arm in arm. Though Shyvana was busy taking in the beauty of the decorations and the festive cheer, she had started to notice that people were staring at them as they walked down the street. Shyvana blushed and tried not to notice it, but the staring and comments were getting louder and more brazen.

"Um, Jarvan, people are staring." Shyvana whispered, pulling herself closer to him.

"Just ignore them." Jarvan said with a confident smile, glancing down at the dragoness. Though Jarvan tried to play it down, he was obviously enjoying the attention, smiling proudly as he strode down the street with Shyvana on his arm. Shyvana blushed a bit deeper shade of red, trying to sink her face inside her scarf as they walked, pulling her hood a bit lower over her face.

"They're not staring at you." Delancey said, trying not to grin at the dragoness's embarrassment. She patted Shyvana on the shoulder and tried not to laugh as Shyvana glanced back at her, red faced as steam rose off her head. "Well... maybe they are a bit. Mostly him." She said, pointing at Jarvan.

"Jarvan?" Shyvana said, frowning slightly, still trying to hide in her scarf.

"Hmm?" He mused, grinning.

"News about the Prince travels fast here in Demacia. Especially considering he was gone for two years and suddenly turned up again." Delancey smiled. "Rumors about his personal interests travel almost as fast. You'll probably be the talk of the city as of tomorrow morning."

"I... I don't know if I like the sound of that." Shyvana said nervously.

"Don't listen to her." Jarvan said, waving Delancey off and grinning crookedly.

"What would you know, you haven't been in Demacia in two years." Delancey said with a smirk. "News about the royal family travels faster than news about the Institute of War. Everybody cares and doesn't care at the same time." She shrugged. "It's a rather silly obsession of ours."

"Oh be silent." Jarvan said, rolling his eyes.

"See, it's true and he can't deny it." Delancey said, chuckling.

"Well, considering the gossipy tendencies of Demacian residents didn't change in two years, I'm surprised that the role of a bodyguard changed so much! Here I thought you were supposed to be protecting me and my date while we enjoyed ourselves, rather than making derisive joke after derisive joke! Oh how the times have changed." Jarvan said, injecting sarcasm into his voice.

"I have to ask, does he treat you the same way he treats his subordinates?" Delancey said rolling her eyes with a playful grin. "Lots of huffing, yelling and way to much arguing?"

"Well..." Shyvana said glancing up at the prince and then letting an elfin grin slip onto her face. "There's always a lot of attitude, but then again, he's a prince. Our arguments tend to involve decidedly less clothes though."

"Shy!" Jarvan said, blushing as he glanced down at the dragoness. She wore a proud smile as the prince tried to appear angry but he couldn't keep the smile from his face as Delancey nearly collapsed from laughing so hard.

"Oh wow." She said, clutching her stomach as she struggled to catch her breath and stay on two feet. "I don't think I've ever seen you so out of your element, your highness. I am loving this." Delancey turned to Shyvana. "Any time you guys go out, make sure I'm there to watch. This is so much fun."

"I'm going to bust you all the way back to private, Delancey." Jarvan growled, frowning slightly as he raised an eyebrow and glanced back at Delancey. She shrugged and struggled to regain her composure.

"Apologies, sir." Delancey said, grinning unapologetically. "It's just good to see you in such high spirits and all."

"Yes, well, thank you." Jarvan said, clearing his throat nervously, though both Delancey and Shyvana could see a smile on his face.

"So, Sergeant, where were you stationed before you were assigned to Jarvan's command?" Shyvana said, turning to look back at Delancey. She looked surprised, but smiled and shrugged.

"Nowhere important." Delancey smiled. "I served a few months with a border patrol unit, but I got shifted rearward after an incident with my commanding officer. There was a bit of a disagreement in the unit and, well, it didn't turn out great." A bit of a frown passed over her face and she glowered for a moment. She perked up immediately though, smiling overly cheerfully, but Shyvana could see a bit of frustration bunched in the corner of her eyes as she tried to keep her smile. "I got busted down to sergeant and was stuck, bouncing around from unit to unit in Military Command before I was assigned to Prince Jarvan." She chuckled softly. "I've been working under him for the past two weeks, more or less since he returned."

"I see." Shyvana said nodding thoughtfully. "What happened with your commander? It was my understanding that Demacia didn't tolerate insubordination..."

"There were... extenuating circumstances." Delancey said defensively. Shyvana frowned, curious, but she decided it was better not to push. Delancey looked hesitant at best. As if he could sense the conversation turning south, Jarvan slowed to a stop outside a shop and gestured to the building.

"We've arrived." Jarvan said proudly, looking up at the sign that hung over the door. Though it was colorfully decorated like all the other shops, trimmed with holly and fir, candles burning brightly in the windows, there was a decidedly older feeling to the building, as if it were slightly grayer than all the other buildings.

"'Blomgrum's'?" Shyvana said, reading the name on the sign. There was a faded Demacian crest on the sign, though there was something slightly off about the crest that Shyvana couldn't place.

"Yep." Jarvan said, grinning, leading her inside by the hand. "Come on, I have someone I'd like you to meet." As Jarvan started to lead her into the small shoppe, Shyvana stopped and peered through the window at intricate, inlaid swords, decorated with large gems that glimmered every shade of the rainbow, though much of it was covered in a fine layer of dust. Shyvana hesitated, but Jarvan's insistence finally won her over. They entered the small shop and were assaulted by a solid wave of warm air and the smell of coal smoke, iron and sulfur.

"Welcome to 'Blomgrum's' Armor shop." A small, large headed creature said from behind the cluttered shop counter. She disappeared behind the counter then reappeared from the side, pushing a pair of goggles up onto her head. She pulled a pair of heavy leather gloves off her hands and offered her small blue hand to Jarvan and then Shyvana in turn, nodding a wary greeting to Delancey who had followed them into the shop and stood waiting off to the side. When Shyvana took the diminutive blue creature's hand and shook it, she was surprised. While the creature's hand was just barely large enough to grasp Shyvana's palm, she had an incredibly strong grip.

_A Yordle? _Shyvana had heard stories but she had never met one before.

"Prince Lightshield." The creature said, after eying Shyvana up from the top of her head to her toes. She turned back to the prince and gazed at the crown he wore. "Problems with your armor?"

"None at all, Ambassador Poppy." Jarvan said, smiling. "It's in perfect condition, as always."

"Is that perfect by my description or by your description." The Yordle said with an even voice, not a trace of malice or annoyance in her voice. "You tend to return things broken and smashed to bits. I don't appreciate it when my armor that I work so hard to craft gets smashed." Jarvan grinned mischievously, and the Yordle shook her head. "I should have known. Bring it down here one of these days and I'll repair any major holes in it."

"I'll do that." Jarvan said nodding. "But I didn't come to inquire about my own armor."

"Oh? Not shopping for yourself?" Poppy said, narrowing her eyes and raising an eyebrow. "Then what brings you to my little shop here in the middle of Demacia?" She paused for a moment and then looked back to Shyvana. "I assume you're reason for coming involves this one then." She wiped her hands on a rag and then lifted a chest plate from a pile of armor. She handed it to Shyvana. She gestured to Shyvana and then paused, and taking a step back looking, Shyvana up and down again as the dragoness held the plate to her chest. "Armor or Arms?" She frowned and gestured for the plate back, which Shyvana handed over.

"Armor, actually." Jarvan said with a grin. "I take it you've heard the rumors?"

"Aye, but I've never been much of one for gossip." Poppy said, nodding slowly as she disappeared behind the desk and popped back up into view after what sounded like climbing a few stairs. She had already begun to browse the shelves behind her, looking for armor that would fit Shyvana.

"Point made." Jarvan said evenly, a thin smile on his face. "I'd like to commission a full set of armor for her, full steel, and a full dragon's skin mail liner. Poppy paused and glanced back over her shoulder at Jarvan and frowned just a bit.

"So, I suppose the rumors are true then." Poppy said, looking back to Shyvana with an almost mystical smile on her face. She hopped down from behind her perch behind the counter and reappeared in front of the desk much quicker than before, a smile on her face now. "Are you really a dragon, young lady?" She said, taking Shyvana's hand, turning it over and inspecting her palm as if she were going to find a label that titled her as such.

"Well, half dragon, half human." Shyvana said indignantly. She blushed a little bit, but there was enough offense in her voice that Jarvan grinned and Poppy took a step back, smiling.

"Pardon, Ma'am." Poppy said bowing. "I meant no offense. Dragons are merely a fascination of mine, their armored skin at least. I am Poppy, only daughter of Blomgrum, and appointed ambassador to Demacia from the Yordle capital of Bandle City."

"And you run an armor shop?" Shyvana said, surprise clear on her face. Poppy laughed and nodded happily.

"Indeed I do!" Poppy said with a proud smile. "My father, Blomgrum, taught me the trade and even though I am appointed to work with the Demacian Legislative Council, I spend my spare time crafting armor. Some of it I sell, though most can not afford my rates." She shrugged. "It helps me think." She disappeared behind her desk, but this time she did not reappear. Rattling metal and quaking piles of armor could be heard as she shuffled through pile after of pile of various armored bits and pieces.

"So," She said, sticking her head out from behind the counter, a small grin tugging at the corner of her calm face. "You came with the block headed prince," She squinted at Shyvana once more and then here eyes opened wide. She turned to Jarvan. "That must make her your new consort?"

"Indeed." Jarvan said in a measured tone.

The Yordle chuckled, looking to Shyvana. "Tell me, has the prince managed to ruin my armor yet again?"

Shyvana nodded, glancing up at Jarvan with an imp-like smile showing on her pink, wind kissed face. "Yes." Shyvana laughed. "It's hardly recognizable."

"Bloody hell." Poppy said with a forlorn sigh. "Anyways, I suppose you wouldn't have come to me if you needed simple armor. Tell me about your fighting style and what you need in a set of armor."

"Well..." Shyvana said hesitantly. Jarvan put a hand onto her shoulder and nodded, smiling. "I think it will need to stay with me when I transform. It will also need to be heat resistant to a high degree." Shyvana frowned. "Flexibility is also important."

"I see." Poppy said nodding. "Dual stage armor?" She frowned and glanced around the shop, looking for various pieces she could use. "This will be a rather difficult set." Poppy mused as she looked Shyvana up and down. She stepped around her and looked her back up and down and then frowned. "Two stage armor is not overly difficult. High ranking paladins and knights have often come to me for armor that can change its form when mounted or dismounted." She paused, tapping her fingers along a steel breast plate. "I suppose it would be prudent to get a look at this transformation before I get too far ahead of myself. I prefer knowing what exactly I'm working with."

"Uh... well." Shyvana said nervously, glancing around the shop.

"Perhaps it would be best not to do it in the shop." Jarvan said grinning.

"Yes, of course." Poppy said, nodding and tapping her finger upon her chin now. She glanced to the back of the shop and then waved for them to follow. "This way. There is a decent sized courtyard that we can use. It's secluded enough that we won't panic anyone."

"That sounds perfect." Jarvan said, chuckling. Shyvana nodded nervously but followed as they picked their way deeper into the shop. They passed a staircase and then emerged through a doorway into a large stone-flagon lined courtyard. They stood under a large awning, a glowing furnace, anvil and other pieces of smithing equipment stood warmed and ready for use along the wall. Snow had mounted up in the courtyard and was just starting to spill into the workspace that Poppy had set up for her smithing.

"Is this big enough?" She said, gesturing to the courtyard. Jarvan looked to Shyvana as she surveyed the area. She nodded as she glanced around and frowned slightly. She sighed and pulled her cloak from her shoulders and starting unbuttoning the blouse.

"Hold on a second..." Delancey said, her eyes growing wide, waving her hands slightly to forestall the stripping. "What are you doing?"

"Taking my clothes off?" Shyvana said, blinking, surprised. "I don't want to ruin them by transforming while I'm wearing them." Shyvana spoke as if absolutely nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Well don't do it here!" Delancey protested, fitting Jarvan with a glare. "Ambassador, is there somewhere she can change?"

Poppy looked surprised as well, but burst into laughter after a few moments, nodding. "Sure. This way." She said gesturing for Shyvana to follow her. Shyvana blushed slightly but nodded, holding her cloak to her chest as she stepped after the Yordle back towards the building. When they were gone, Delancey turned towards Jarvan and fit him with a disapproving glare.

"I can't believe you were going to simply stand there and watch while she undressed herself in public!" She exclaimed. Jarvan blinked a few times, as if absolutely nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Why wouldn't she undress?" Jarvan said with a frown. "It's plenty secluded back here..." He glanced around the courtyard. Not a single exposed window could be seen, they had all been shuttered closed against the winter storm. "...Besides. If she doesn't undress before transforming, she'd rip the clothes to ribbons and then what will she wear when we're done here?"

"Yes... but..." Delancey began to protest again, her face slightly flushed as she glanced away.

"If you think it indecent for her to expose herself to me, I've seen it all before." Jarvan said, frowning slightly.

"Sir!" Delancey snapped, her face now flushed. "I really didn't need to know that."

"What?" Jarvan said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I've seen her transform a number of times before..."

"That's not what I meant." Delancey said, running a hand over her face and sighing. "Sir, you need to keep it confined to the bed room now that you've returned to Demacia." She frowned. "You're putting undue stress on Miss Shyvana and you're going to make it difficult for yourself if you intend to have a future with her." Jarvan's gaze darkened.

"You seem to know something I don't." Jarvan tried to keep the menace from his voice, but there was more than enough growl in his voice to cause her to frown.

"To be blunt sir, I do'" Delancey said evenly. "You've been gone for a matter of years, so perhaps you've forgotten some of the responsibilities that come with being a nobleman. You are under scrutiny from all sides: your family, your people, the other nobles... you need to be mindful at the very least that anything that would draw attention to you normally will probably draw large amounts of trouble for you and Miss Shyvana."

Jarvan sighed, his shoulders sinking just a bit. "Yes, I suppose so." Jarvan glowered as he leaned against one of the wooden beams that held the shelter up. "It may be because I'm so used to being out in the wilds and small towns where people only see me as a warrior, not a leader, not a prince... but I became so used to being as intimate or as relaxed as I wanted to with Shyvana and the others." He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath and expelling it explosively. "After all the stress of dealing with my father and the council I wanted to finally relax and spend some alone time with Shyvana." He wore a sad smile.

"I'm sorry about having to follow you around all day, sir." Delancey said, realizing just how out of line she had been. She snapped to attention. "Apologies sir! I didn't mean to speak out of place!"

"Forget it." Jarvan said, grinning wryly. "I believe the saying is 'It is easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission'?" Jarvan shrugged. "You're right though, I have been playing much too fast and loose with the rules." He chuckled. "I suppose I've already started to pay for it with that nice long stint locked away under house arrest."

"Perhaps, sir." Delancey said grinning. "If you have any questions or anything you would need to know about the world, please, don't hesitate to ask."

"I'll keep that in mind." Jarvan said smiling. The door behind them opened and Shyvana emerged, dressed in her cloak, using one hand to hold the cloak closed and holding her clothes in the other. "Welcome back." Jarvan said, grinning. "That took a bit longer than I expected."

"I took a full set of measurements." Poppy said, nodding. "Armor like this has to be snug or else it can cause problems for the wearer." She paused looking to Jarvan. "You wear a bodysuit that your armor is affixed to, which prevents subtle changes in fittings and other issues. A suit of dragon's skin mail is much harder to craft and requires much more precise fittings."

"Of course." Jarvan said, grinning at Shyvana who blushed slightly. She looked around for somewhere to put her clothes down.

Delancey stepped up, holding her hands out. "I'll hold them for you."

"Oh, thank you." Shyvana said, handing the clothes off. She looked around nervously but took a deep breath. Jarvan set a hand on her shoulder and nodded at her. She smiled barely and the stepped gingerly towards the snow, wrinkling her nose up as she paused at the very edge. She took a deep breath and her cloak began to billow around her, heat beginning to pour off of her. She took a step forward towards the snow and steam began to enshroud her, rising from the ground around her like a veil. The steam began to rise up in a great pillar.

She closed her eyes for a moment and let out a deep breath, steam jetting from her nostrils as snow swirled down around her. It twirled and bounced around her like she was encased in a snow globe, the hot air that poured from her body starting to lift the snowflakes and tossing them away like confetti. She grasped at her head and shrunk down a bit, snarling as pain played across her face. Horns burst from her skull, extending and curving back, each one gleaming a boney silver color and razor sharp at the tip. Shyvana looked up and met Jarvan's measured gaze, diamond shaped pupils gleaming. Fire exploded around her and sent a billowing cloud of steam erupting into the air, casting an eerie haze over the courtyard, obscuring everything and anything from view.

"I swear, I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing that." Jarvan said as a shiver rand down his spine.

"You're telling me." Delancey said, her entire body quaking now, her eyes wide. "I had heard the stories... but part of me didn't believe them..."

As the steams settled and thinned, the scaly hide and vicious claws of a young dragon began to take shape as if they were coalescing out of the fog. Leathery skin was covered in places with armored scales, the glossy armor gleaming against the white snow. A mane of ruby red hair ran down the dragon's back and massive wings quivered, folded back out of the way, the massive claws at the front knocking snow aside like it was nothing. She moved forward with her powerful hind legs till her head hovered just outside the shelter, her magenta eyes blinking as she turned, diamond pupils dilating slightly as she looked in at the Ambassador, Jarvan and Delancey.

Jarvan ran a hand along Shyvana's nose affectionately, smiling at the massive dragoness. Shyvana rumbled softly, approvingly, as if she were purring.

"That's stunning." Poppy said excitedly. "I've never seen an actual dragon like this..." She shook her head and smiled.

"Perhaps you'd like to get started?" Shyvana rumbled. "It's cold out here."

"Right away!" Poppy said happily. Jarvan chuckled as Poppy nodded and went to grab a pencil and a pad of paper for notes and a tape measure to reference just how large parts of Shyvana were. She immediately began to scramble over Shyvana, wrapping the tape measure around her arms, her tail, her chest, anything and everything. Shyvana followed orders about 'life this' or 'lift that' as well as she could, as Jarvan stood next to her, stroking her nose affectionately. Delancey hung back out of the way, watching cautiously as if she were afraid. Jarvan waved her over and though hesitant, Delancey approached slowly.

"Shyvana won't hurt you." Jarvan said, chuckling.

"Don't worry." Shyvana rumbled with a nod, pulling her chops back into an admittedly terrifying smile. "I won't bite... much."

"I think I'm going to take a step back now." Delancey said with a nervous wince. Shyvana snorted, a cloud of steam billowing over Delancey like a rolling fog bank. She waved the steam away and coughed, posting her hands on her hips and frowning at the dragoness. Shyvana snorted and chuckled and even Jarvan had to grin.

"Scared, Delancey?" Jarvan said with a grin. "And here I thought you were a top graduate from the Demacian Martial academy."

"Pardon me sir, but I developed a strategy for encounters like this while patrolling the borders: I call it the FEAR contingency." Delancey took a deep breath to try and calm herself and the looked Shyvana up and down again.

"I don't believe I've heard of that before." Jarvan said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Fear..."

"FEAR:" Delancey said with a grin. "Fuck Everything And Run." Jarvan snorted. "If I saw you coming towards me... yeah... I'm gone." She shook her head as Shyvana smiled again, her shoulders shaking slightly with a deep chuckle of her own.

"Some soldier you are." Jarvan said, leaning against Shyvana and grinning at Delancey. "What happened to the Measured Thread? They don't use the little brown book any more?" Jarvan spoke of the handbook that outlined the Demacian Ideology and moral code for new recruits during their three year mandatory service period.

"Oh they still do." Delancey said, running a hand over her head, brushing her bright blue bangs from her face. "But when you're patrolling the border with only small units, it's better to make a tactical withdrawal and call for reinforcements rather than standing and fighting, dying, and then not being able to get any information back to the rest of your unit." She shrugged and sighed. "Luckily we never had to utilize said strategy, but it was always my last resort."

"'Death is inevitable; one can only avoid defeat.'" Jarvan said, quoting the Measured Thread with a think lipped smile.

"Ah, but see, we were avoiding defeat." Delancey said with a grin. "It's wasn't surrender or retreat either." She smiled mischievously. "We were merely advancing in another direction!"

"Straight backwards for the sound of it." Jarvan said with a snort.

"Oh and I'm sure you never ran from anything, right?" Delancey said, giving the prince an annoyed expression. Jarvan opened his mouth to reply, but he froze, clamping it shut after a moment and glancing to the ground, a dark frown now marring his face.

_Too far, Del! Way too far! _Delancey shook her head and stood up a bit straighter, watching as Shyvana nuzzled Jarvan's shoulder gently. The prince sighed and looked back to Delancey, his eyes muted and cold. She felt her heart stop beating in her chest as he glared at her with those eyes, devoid of life and merciless. They weren't normal, they didn't even look human. They were the eyes of a dead man walking.

"I wish I had." Jarvan said flatly. He sighed and then closed his eyes, running a hand over his face. "That was a long time ago." He tried to smile, but Delancey could see the pain in his expression. Shyvana nuzzled his cheek gently, glancing towards Delancey with a mix of curiosity and frustration in her expression. Delancey turned away and decided it better to leave it at that.

"Alright, I'm finished now." Poppy finally said as she flipped through pages of notes. "If you'd like to transform back now, young lady, I have one last thing I'd like to check."

Shyvana nodded and let out a deep breath, steam billowing from her nostrils. Jarvan picked up the cloak and tossed it over her shoulders as she began to shrink. The dark, leathery skin began to pale almost to the color of the snow. Though the cloak barely stretched from side to side of her back, but as she shrunk, the cloak covered her in her entirety. Jarvan helped her to her feet and held her arm as she pulled the cloak over her head. She tugged her braid out from the cloak as well and ran her hands gently over it sighing tiredly.

"Are you alright, Shy?" Jarvan said, as she leaned a bit more heavily on him.

"Yes, I think so." Shyvana said weakly. She shook her head from side to side, "I don't think I've ever had to transform like that though. I usually rely on..."

"Anger?" Delancey said as she held the clothes out for Shyvana. Jarvan gave her an annoyed look, but Shyvana nodded nervously.

"Anger drove me when I was a child and I never learned any other way to control the transformations. Anger and fear, rage... emotions fueled my strength." She looked slightly withered as she tried to take a step and stumbled. Jarvan caught her, lifting her up. "Apologies, Jarvan. I tried to use my own strength this time. It didn't work quite as well as I'd thought. I... I might need to lie down."

"Come on, we'll get you dressed, dear." Poppy said, gesturing for them to follow. "I'll make some cocoa to warm you up."

"Thank you." Shyvana said gratefully.

"We can't impose on you, Ambassador." Jarvan began to say, but the Yordle shook her head and laughed.

"Nonsense." She wore a grin. "As much as you're going to be paying for this set of armor, your highness, the least I can offer you is something warm to drink."

"Thanks." Jarvan said, finally nodding and helping Shyvana inside. They headed upstairs to where the Yordle put a pan on the stove. She poured some milk in and added a few things as well, bouncing around the small kitchen while Jarvan waited in the parlor. Delancey helped Shyvana dress in a side room. Poppy returned to the parlor and set a tray of mugs down on the low table and then pulled herself into a chair that was much too large for herself.

"I must admit, Ambassador, I'm surprised at how well furnished this is." Jarvan said glancing around.

"I make quite a bit on the side as far as my smithing goes." Poppy said, shrugging and gesturing to a loveseat for Jarvan to sit down in. He perched himself carefully as if he was afraid it would break, but as he settled into it, nary a creak escaped. "I sometimes have to receive visitors from Demacia in my private time so I had things brought in that could serve for humans as well as Yordles. When I'm not working with the council or in my shop, and when I don't stay at the Institute, this is as much my home as Bandle city, though I don't get to use it nearly as much as I would like."

"I understand better than you think." Jarvan said, nodding with a bit of a grin. "After I returned, I realized how much I had missed my bed."

"Home is wear the heart is though, is it not?" Poppy said with a wry grin. Her eyes looked to the doors behind which Shyvana had disappeared and Jarvan blushed slightly. "Anyways, It'll take some time to craft the armor." Poppy said, shrugging. "I assume the metal will have to be highly heat resistant?" Jarvan nodded. "That makes it all the more difficult to craft." She shrugged and took a sip from one of the mugs. "There is also the problem of the sizing difference of her transformation."

"You do you mean?" Jarvan said, frowning.

"Well obviously, the suit of mail will have to be enchanted or something to fit her in both forms." Poppy said thoughtfully. "But that does leave the question of how exactly to cause the transformation of the armor when she transforms as well." Poppy said thoughtfully, staring down into her cup. "A heat charm could work perhaps..." The door opened and Delancey helped Shyvana in through the door. She lowered the dragoness down to Jarvan's side and he lifted a mug to her hands.

"Drink that, young one, it'll warm you up." Poppy said happily. "A Yordle secret recipe."

"Thanks." Shyvana said haggardly. She lifted the mug to her face and and sipped at it. She let out a satisfied sigh when she lowered the mug, licking her lips as the steam caressed her face. "It's delicious..." Shyvana murmured, looking down into the steaming mug. She look another sip and let out another sigh of satisfaction.

"The key is dark chocolate." Poppy said grinning. She laughed and pulled out an iron arm guard that looked just large enough to fit around Shyvana's forearm. "I'd like to check something young lady. Just take this and put it on your arm and apply some heat to it." Shyvana looked for a place to put her mug down, and Jarvan held out a hand to accept it. She gave him a smile as a show of thanks.

"Heat?" Shyvana said, accepting the guard from poppy and looking at it. She nodded slowly and then rolled her blouse sleeve up, sliding the gauntlet over her hand. She raised an eyebrow as she looked down at it, but Poppy simply nodded encouragingly. "Alright." Shyvana said hesitantly. She set the mug down and then closed her eyes, her hand beginning to glow a warm orange. Her brow creased slightly as sparks began to flit around her hands, but before the air around her hand could burst into flames, the gauntlet shimmered and expanded to a much larger size. It hung loosely on Shyvana's arm, easily large enough to fit around her thigh now.

"I've never seen armor like this..." Jarvan said, surprised.

"It's special armor that has a second form when it is heated." Poppy said smiling mystically. "It's part iron work and part enchantment magic, and both are difficult to work with." Poppy cackled a bit and then calmed herself. "I didn't think I'd ever actually have a chance to use this craft for anything other than specialty locks, but it seems like it might be the key to a set of enchanted armor for you."

"This is quite amazing." Shyvana said, poking the armor slightly. It rattled a bit and as it finally cooled, it shrunk back to its original size and shape. "It seems perfect." Shyvana said, astounded.

"Ah, I wish it were that simple." Poppy said, chuckling. " I would imagine but there are numerous other charms and enchantments we'll need for it to function properly, but for now, I have what I need to start work on the armor."

"Thank you." Shyvana said, a smile growing on her face.

"I do have one concern." Jarvan said, tapping a finger of the armor.

"What sort of concern?" Poppy said with a frown.

"Well..." Jarvan frowned and then shrugged. "This." He leaned down and kissed Shyvana full on, taking her by surprise, her cheeks immediately flushing a furious red. Jarvan pulled back and watched with a smirk as Shyvana wore a flustered expression, glaring down at the ground, her cheeks now the same shade of red as he hair. The armor expanded again and slid off her arm, clattering as it hit the ground.

"Don't surprise me like that!" Shyvana protested, a mix of affection and annoyance on her face as she glared at Jarvan. He wore a crooked grin and chuckled, Delancey and Poppy joining in as well. Shyvana leaned down to retrieve the armor, fidgeting with it to hide her embarrassment while she waited for it to shrink.

"I see what you mean." Poppy laughed. "I might be able to adjust the threshold to make it hotter. That should solve any problems."

"I will say..." Jarvan mused, looking down at the arm guard as it shrunk back down. "I don't exactly have a problem with self-removing armor." Shyvana's face turned bright red as they laughed at her expense again.

"Jerk." She muttered in Jarvan's direction.

Jarvan smiled. "Well, thank you for your hospitality, Ambassador. I'll sort out the commission as soon as you can get me an estimate."

"I'll see that you do." Poppy said, setting her mug down. "Thank you for stopping by. I'll get to work on the armor right away."

"I appreciate the speed, as always." Jarvan said nodding.

"Don't forget your armor next time you stop by." Poppy said with a snort. "Sounds like it needs just as much work." Jarvan shook his head as they exited the shop. "Take care, prince."

"I will." Jarvan said grinning. "Have a good evening and a Merry Snowdown!" They stepped into the bustling street as Delancey pulled the door shut . The snowfall had slackened, but flakes still fell around the street.

"Anywhere else, sire?" Delancey said, as she frowned, looking over her shoulder. Jarvan frowned as well, meeting her gaze. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and she flicked her gaze to the side rapidly, twice in a row. Jarvan gave her an imperceptible nod and the let a large smile break onto his face.

"Not that I can think of..." He said, loudly. "Shyvana?" He looked down to Shyvana and paused, a frown appearing on his face. "Hey, Shy, you alright?" His voice wasn't loud and boastful, it had hardened and there was concern lacing his face. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked sleepy, as if she were still exhausted from the transformation.

"Is that you, Jarvan?" Shyvana said silkily, her voice fluid as she leaned on him and draped her arms around him and pressed against him provocatively. "It's be so long..."

"Let's get back to the barracks then." Delancey said, a trace of worry in her voice. Jarvan frowned, Delancey's hand had slid to her sword on her hip, resting on the grip with white knuckles.

"Of course." Jarvan said, making sure to support Shyvana. She looked up at him with a smile on her face and fluttering eyelids.

"Jarvan..." Shyvana murmured, resting a hand on his arm and sighing softly. "Something feel tingly."

"Tingly?" Jarvan said, blinking a few times. _What?_ Jarvan looked down at Shyvana as she stumbled a bit, leaning heavily on Jarvan's arm. "Come on, Shyvana, let's get you home." He said with a trace of urgency lacing his voice, pulling the dragoness along as gently as he could.

"After you, sir." Delancey said, her voice now icy. She met Jarvan's gaze, her green eyes sparkling dangerously.

There was trouble in the air and Delancey could feel it as well.

Jarvan paused, looking over his shoulder as if he were simply inspecting the street behind him, looking for someone in the crowd. As if on cue, two hooded figures ducked into alleyways, disappearing from sight. Jarvan felt ice coalesce in his stomach.

_We are being followed._


	16. Chapter 15: Nightmare

Jarvan swept into the palace with Shyvana in his arms and pushed past the queries of the guards at the main doors, Delancey bustling in behind him. She paused at the massive double doors and looked back over her shoulder with a troubled frown on her face. Kranoff Dillich stood at the far end of the entrance

hall, confusion plastered on his face and his fists posted on his waist. He raised his hand to stop the Prince. Though he was curious, he was also cautious; the prince was on a warpath and it showed on his face and in his tread.

"Good evening, Lieutenant Colonel, Prince Lightshield." Colonel Dillich said with an even tone that didn't betray any emotion. He glanced down at the dragoness and felt ice settle in his stomach. "What happened, is she alright?" Her face was deeply flushed as she lay in Jarvan's arms, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She groaned and squirmed in discomfort, grabbing a handful of Jarvan's tunic.

"I believe so." Jarvan growled, impatience hurrying his words, glancing over his shoulder as the main doors slammed shut. He took a deep breath and then calmed himself before looking up at Dillich and meeting his gaze with a hard stare. "Something she ate didn't agree with her. She collapsed just before we started our return."

"Perhaps we should take her to the infirmary, sire?" Colonel Dillich said, waving his men forward to assist, but Jarvan shook his head, forestalling the soldiers approach with a foreboding frown.

"I shall retire to my quarters." Jarvan said doing his best to match the colonel's firm tone. "I'd like to let her rest there. Please send for her commander at once, I'd like to speak with them and I have a few questions to be answered as well."

"Sire?" The colonel said with the hint of a question hurrying his words. "It is rather late, perhaps it would be best to let her rest in the infirmary before returning her to the barracks in the morning?"

"No, I'd like to keep an eye on her myself." Jarvan growled, a touch of menace lacing his voice, warning the officer that the issue was not up for discussion. "Send for her commander at once. I don't care how long it takes, I want to see him tonight."

"Right away, sire." Dillich read the seriousness in the prince's face and nodded. He turned to one of the runners who had been trailing behind him as he wade his evening rounds of the castle. "Send for Lieutenant Vorscham from the garrison." He paused for a moment and frowned. "And Gunny Alicia Juniper. She's been spending a lot of time with the dragon-girl recently." The courier snapped off a salute and then dashed away.

_Vorscham is her commanding officer?_ Jarvan shook his head. "Kranoff."

Dillich looked surprised, but hid the expression by standing up straighter. "Sir?"

"Where is my father?" Jarvan said, glancing beyond the officer, deeper into the palace.

"He retired early, sire." Dillich said with a frown, glancing behind him. He tried not to let his nerves worm their way to the surface of his expression but he was starting to get more and more uncomfortable with the situation.

"Blast." Jarvan growled, frowning.

"Shall I wake him, sire?"

"No, let him sleep." Jarvan growled, shuddering a bit. He shifted Shyvana in his arms, taking care not to let her head roll away, keeping it rested against his chest. "I want you to beef up the guard tonight. Have guards posted outside my parents quarters, and mine as well. Make sure all personnel are on high alert. Post patrols around the grounds and have routine sweeps of the palace hallways throughout the evening."

"Expecting an attack, sire?" Colonel Dillich said with a nervous chuckle. Color drained from his face when Jarvan merely glared at him. "R-right away sir!" He started barking orders to his men, summoning more couriers to carry orders to the garrison, and sending his men off to begin increasing the guard presence around the palace.

"Come on, Del." Jarvan growled, watching as the guardsmen scampered away. His cloak billowed behind him as he set off with massive strides carrying him through the castle. "Watch my back, I'm hesitant to trust anyone at this point..."

"You're really worried aren't you." Delancey said with a nervous frown. Jarvan glanced left and right down a deserted hallway, pausing for a few moments to listen before peeling off down the side hallway to avoid his normal route. Delancey paused, watching the palace silently as the steady clatter of a pair of heavily armed guards jogging by slowly faded away. She stepped backwards into the hallway behind Jarvan, taking off at a jog to catch up.

"Of course I am." Jarvan snapped as Delancey fell in beside him, watching as she jogged alongside him, sometimes jogging backwards to watch behind them. Jarvan paused again at another intersection to check it was clear, gritting his teeth as he started his strides through the hallways again, heading for the stairs that led up the tower to his quarters. "The last time I thought I was safe in my quarters when I was being threatened, I was nearly assassinated. I don't want to take any chances until we have some idea about what we're dealing with." His voice trailed off as if he was thinking.

"Assassinated?" Delancey repeated after several long moments of silent walking, swallowing hard, her throat now dry.

"Swain of all people." Jarvan said with a grin that smacked of appreciation and resentment. "I was only thirteen at the time."

"I didn't realize your history went that far back." Delancey said with a grimace. She paused at the base of the massive circular staircase as Jarvan started mounting the steps three at a time. She waited till the hall cleared then headed up behind him, her boots clanking on the stone.

"Unfortunately, yes." Jarvan said, shaking his head. He paused at the intersection and then continued, his pace picking up again. "I do not think this is Swain's work, though. This seems too... amateurish. Not directly at least."

"Then who?" Delancey said, jogging past him to open the door to the Suite of rooms that belonged to the prince. "You think he would hire someone?" He swept in, careful to mind Shyvana's feet and head, moving towards the bedroom.

"I don't know." Jarvan said with a frown. "That's exactly what I want to learn." He laid Shyvana gently down on the bed, pausing as Delancey pulled the outer doors closed and then waited, her ear pressed to the door to ensure no one was following. She nodded to herself as she locked the door and then followed Jarvan into chambers, glancing nervously around the contents of Jarvan's bedroom. Delancey shut the doors and then took a deep breath, sighing heavily. She glanced over her shoulder and nodded at Jarvan. He sat down next to Shyvana and sighed, leaning heavily on his knees as he ran his hands over his face. He looked to the dragoness, watching as she tugged at the sleeves of her cloak, her entire body quivering slightly. He blushed as she rolled over and he got a fair view of her cleavage, the buttons of her tunic having come loose. He put it out of his mind and leaned over, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. _Her body is so warm. She has a fever? _He paused. _Do dragons get fevers?_

"You alright, sir?" Delancey said as she cranked the lights up and started to move around the room, looking out the windows and checking the doors to the balcony that hung from one side of the tower. She frowned, jiggling the handles and giving them a firm tug, nodding to herself when she was satisfied that the doors were solidly locked. "You look a bit out of it."

"I'm growing tired of these cloak and dagger games." Jarvan said with a frown. "My father is the one who loves this soft warfare, not I. It stresses me to no end to constantly have to watch my back like this." He glowered a moment, leaning back and looking Shyvana over. She had curled herself into a ball, pulling her knees to her chest as sweat beaded on her forehead, her mouth moving slowly as she murmured to herself. He shook his head as he began to tug on one of her boots, frowning as the shoe began to give him trouble. Shyvana giggled and she kicked gently back at Jarvan as he struggled with the boot. "Come on, you stubborn bastard..." He snarled, but the noise died in his throat, lacking both the power and the vehemence to make the noise menacing. "How is it that a boot can be so difficult to remove?" Jarvan growled.

"Jarvan... stop..." Shyvana murmured, giggling again. "You're going to make me..." She squealed as Jarvan gave the boot a tug.

"What in the word is she thinking right now?" Jarvan looked exasperated as he dropped the boot, still snugly seated on Shyvana's foot. "How can it be so difficult to get her out of her clothes like this?" Shyvana giggled and rolled away from him. "Come back here!" He growled, flopping backwards and grasping at her boot again as she rolled up in his blanket, taking a deep breath and sighing contently. Jarvan ran a hand through his hair, sweeping it out of his face as he shook his head, sitting up. "Good lord, woman, what in the world?"

"Check the side." Delancey said with an amused smile. "There may be buttons or a zipper." Jarvan frowned, his eyebrow twitching as he flopped backwards again and grabbed the blanket burrito Shyvana had wrapped herself up in and then dragged it towards him. The dragoness shrieked and giggled again, her voice muffled. Jarvan glared at the blanket shrouded lump and his eye twitched a bit. He shook his head when Delancey gave him a shrug that said '_don't look at me_' and he sighed. He pealed back the bottom of the blanket and and he undid the button and lowered the zipper on Shyvana's boot.

Jarvan shook his head let out a snort of mirth and amusement. "Thanks." Delancey offered him a teasing smile as she pulled a small box from beneath her cloak. Jarvan raised an eyebrow, but watched silently as she raised the box and held it out at arms length. She pressed a button on the top of the box and then stepped backwards as it began to glow. She left the box hanging in the air and then crossed her arms over her chest, waiting. The box glowed a brilliant green, casting an eerie glow across the room, finally fading back to its dull brown color. It blinked green once and then gently floated to the ground.

"No problem." Delancey said as she stepped forward and picked it up with a deft sweep of her hand. She pressed the top of the box twice, rapidly, and it blinked green once. She nodded and then looked to Jarvan. "The room is secure, sir."

"What exactly is that little thing?" Jarvan said as he pulled Shyvana's other boot off. She flipped the dragoness' blanket wrapped legs over his shoulder and listened to her sigh appreciatively, giggling again. He shook his head as he accepted the little box as Delancey handed it over to him. He held it in his hand, surprised as how much it weighed considering it wasn't much larger than a small jewelry box. He poked it once, but it sat silent in his palm.

"Just something Lee gave me to sweep rooms for invisibility charms, peeking spells, listening incantations, and all sort of other malicious things." She shrugged. "It'll glow red if someone casts a malicious spell in the area, which I've set to be this room. Press the top down firmly once to let it begin passively monitoring the room."

"I see..." Jarvan said, reconsidering the little box. He set it down on his bedside table and pressed the top once and watched as the top of it began to glow a dim green, like a distant star. "Handy." He glanced over his shoulder at the lump of blankets behind him as Shyvana struggled to get free. Jarvan shook his head and then began to sort the blankets out, freeing her from the warm, soft prison she had managed to get herself caught up in.

"I use it to sweep my bedroom and most bathrooms." She said with a bit of a frown. "It's surprising what you'll find."

"I see what you mean." Jarvan said. "Thanks."

"Of course." Delancey said, with a nod. "But as payment for lending it to you, I'd like you to let me in on your plan."

"Plan?" Jarvan said, frowning. Delancey posted her fists upon her narrow hips and glared at him.

"Yes, your plan." She said with a frown. "You wouldn't have issued all those orders if your weren't planning something. I saw the cogs working. Now spill it."

Jarvan glowered but nodded. "I have a hunch that with the added security, whoever is tailing me is going to either get spooked and run, or get spooked and make their move early. I'm banking on it being the later."

"You're using yourself as bait." Delancey said, her frown deepening. Jarvan shrugged.

"Yes and no." He frowned. "I was hoping I'd be the bait and have Shyvana spring the trap after what would appear to be a long evening of love making." Color flooded Delancey's cheeks but she said nothing. "With Shyvana somewhat incapacitated, I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do, but for now, I'm content with just waiting for answers."

"Are you sure that's safe, though?" Delancey asked hesitantly.

"No." Jarvan admitted as he shrugged. "But I'm tired of running in circles and trying to pin down shadows. I want some hard evidence and this is the first solid lead I think I've got." Delancey ran a hand over her face.

"What're you going to do if you get yourself or Shyvana hurt... or worse yet, killed?" She growled, glaring at the prince. "One of you ends up dead, the other heartbroken, or you both wind up wounded or dead." She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "I don't think this is smart, sir. You're asking for trouble."

"Fine, pull in a few guards and have them posted in the outer room." Jarvan said, shrugging. "Just stay quite. When Vorscham and Juniper get here, have them stand by as well." Jarvan ran his hand over his stubble covered chin. "If something doesn't happen in the next few hours, I doubt anything will happen at all." He paused, glancing at the clock on the top of the mantle over the fireplace. "Say one o'clock. If nothing happens by then, I think we're in the clear."

"Very well, sir." Delancey said, frowning. She obviously was uncomfortable with the plan, but she didn't look ready to oppose it either. "I'll be outside if you need me." Jarvan stood up and saw her to the door.

"Of course." Jarvan said, nodding his head slightly. "Good evening, Sergeant." She bowed as she pulled the door behind her.

As the doors to the room closed, Jarvan lowered the hextech lantern lights down to their lowest setting, barely a warm glow cast around the room. He glanced as the clock again, frowning. They had lost a number of hours to the late start to the day, and their sightseeing and wandering around the city had cost them most of the daylight of the day. The visit to the ambassador had cost him another few hours and now the sky was pitch black. The snowfall had begun to pick up again and as Jarvan paused at the large, heavy doors that ran along the balcony, he frowned, the snow was now well above his knee.

_Anyone crazy enough to do something like trying to ascend the tower in this weather is definitely mad enough to try and attack us here. _Jarvan frowned, glancing towards the edge of the balcony. It wasn't a particularly dangerous climb if you knew what you were doing, but in the darkness and the snow, it would be exceedingly difficult. Jarvan snorted. _I'll have to check in the morning to make sure that no one fell to their death and froze._ He kicked off his boots with a bit of effort and then hung his heavy cloak on a coat rack that stood near the door to the main room. He rolled his neck and felt it pop. He hesitated a moment and then striped his tunic off, tossing it into the doorway to his closet.

Jarvan sighed as he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and yawned, running a hand over his face again. Most of the light in the room now came from the crackling fireplace that stood along the far wall, beyond the foot of his bed. It gave off enough heat to warm the room; Jarvan could feel it on his hands and his face as he stared into it. Something shifted on the bed behind him and he felt warm skin brush against his back. Shyvana crawled out from the blankets looking blurry-eyed and glanced about, a soft smile upon her still-blushed face. She saw Jarvan and then crept out from under the blanket, pushing herself under his arm and then collapsing into his lap with a happy smile, her eyes fluttering somewhere between open and closed.

"You know, I'd ask when you managed to lose your clothes, but I'm more impressed then surprised." Jarvan said, chuckling softly as Shyvana glanced up at him with happy eyes. She smiled sweetly, and then snuggled down into his lap with a satisfied sigh.

"I've learned to do a lot of things that would surprise you." Shyvana whispered, giggling slightly at her own joke. Though the exhaustion in her voice hid most of it, her tone was full of innuendos and invitations that made the room immediately feel warmer.

"Apparently, someone is instilling a soldier's sense of humor in you too." Jarvan said with a teasing grin. He ran a hand along Shyvana's bare shoulder, relishing the warmth of her skin as she shivered. Jarvan could feel her hot breath against his skin and Shyvana glanced.

"The things I've heard appalled me at first, but I began to realize it's simply a soldier's way of dealing with stress and loneliness." She said with a weak attempt at a shrug. "Judging from the way most soldiers talk, it's surprising you made it two years out in the middle of the wilds..." Shyvana wore a smirk that filled in the implications she had left out.

"There were times when it became an overwhelming desire, but at the same time, I have enough willpower to control it." He shrugged. "Though, having maidens throwing themselves at me always made it pretty easy."

"You're a pig." Shyvana said with a snort, shaking her head. She pulled herself out from Jarvan's lap and sat up, tossing her braid over her shoulder and glaring at Jarvan with a mix of a exasperation and lust. Jarvan tried not to chuckle at the expression, but he shrugged and smiled. Jarvan lay back and grinned as he laid his head in Shyvana' s lap as she sat back. He looked up into brilliant magenta eyes and a flushed face that leaned down and met his lips. Shyvana kissed him tenderly, blushing a bit deeper before she sat up and ran a hand over his head, stroking his hair gently.

"Call me a reformed man." Jarvan said, bringing his arms up and running his hands up Shyvana's sides. She shivered and her face blushed deeply as she looked down at him. "Already good to go?" He said with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

"Shut up." Shyvana said, blushing a deep red color as she glanced away nervously. "My body has been feeling weird ever since we left the ambassador's shop."

"Yeah, you had us pretty worried there for a while." Jarvan said, frowning. "You're not allergic to dark chocolate or anything, are you?"

"I don't think so..." Shyvana said, looking displeased. "At least I hope not." She paused. "It just makes me all warm and tingly." She said blushed furiously, and glanced away nervously. "My mind goes all fuzzy and I can feel butterflies in my stomach." Jarvan tried not to grin. "And when I think about you..." Her voice trailed off as she blushed furiously, glancing away. She began to nervously tug on her braid.

"What else?" Jarvan prompted, poking her stomach, and watching her start momentarily.

"What do you mean '_What else?_'" Shyvana said, meeting Jarvan's gaze and then glancing away again.

"I'm pretty sure you were going to say something else." Jarvan said with a sly grin. Shyvana shook her head, embarrassed, blushing furiously as she shoved him off her lap with such force that Jarvan ended up sprawled on the ground next to the bed. Shyvana hadn't even been looking and she glanced over the side of the bed, blinking in surprise. "Jarvan?" She yelped, frightened by her own strength. He groaned as he rolled over and sat up, shaking his head.

"Ow..." Jarvan grumbled, running a hand over the back of his head. "You know, I don't think I've ever gotten kicked out of my own bed before."

"Sorry..." Shyvana said, blushing again as she extended a hand. Jarvan accepted it as he hauled himself to his feet, still rubbing the back of his head. "Are you alright?" Shyvana asked timidly. Jarvan tried to look cross, but Shyvana looked so worried and surprised, almost timid, that he couldn't be mad. He patted her on the head and she blushed furiously again. Jarvan grinned as he sat down on the edge of the bad and then laid back, yawning. "You were saying?"

"Well..." She glanced to her lap and blushed a deep shade of red. "When I think about you..." He voice was barely a squeak. "My body gets all warm and slick. My head gets all fuzzy and I can't think straight..."

"Oh." Jarvan said, blushing slightly. "Well, uh..."

"Sorry." Shyvana said softly, pushing her hands into her lap and twiddling her thumbs. "I have trouble controlling it."

"It's involuntary." Jarvan said, chuckling, a grin on his face.

"Do humans experience things like this?" Shyvana asked as Jarvan pushed himself up and laid back, pulling a pillow under his head with a yawn.

"Sorry, that wasn't from talking to you..." Jarvan murmured, looking to Shyvana. She started to shake her head but she yawned as well, stretching her back languidly, exposing razor sharp canines. She blushed as bit, but she dropped down next to Jarvan, blushing as she smiled, wrapping an arm around his chest.

"Don't worry." Shyvana said, shaking her head. "It's just been a long day. Can I just take a nap here, spend a little more time with you?" She shook her head, burying it into the sheets next to Jarvan's chest. "I don't want to go back to the barracks tonight, Jarvan."

"Why, what's wrong?" Jarvan said, a frown cresting his face.

"I'm not welcome there." Shyvana whispered, resting her chin on Jarvan's chest. "The others, they spread rumors and talk behind my back. Whispers of things they say about you and I." Jarvan felt a shiver run through her shoulders. Jarvan rested his hand gently along her back and hugged her close. "But that's not all... they're afraid of me, Jarvan. They're terrified."

"I don't care what they say and neither should you." Jarvan said, trying to smile and cheer her up. "You'd never hurt them and both you and I know that."

"For some reason I get the sinking feeling that everyone would tell me I should care about what they should think, though." Shyvana said, poking him in the chest.

"Yes, well..." Jarvan started, glancing away. Shyvana chuckled softly and pressed up against him.

"It's good to know you care, though." Shyvana said smiling. Jarvan ran his hand along her hair and snorted. "So please, can I just spend a little while longer with you? I don't want to go back, yet."

"Alright." Jarvan said, holding onto her and giving her a warm smile. "Just as long as you hold onto to me tight like this, you can stay as long as you wish."

* * *

Jarvan felt heat against his body, and his eyes fluttered open. The flicker of orange firelight danced upon the ceiling. He glanced to the left and to the right, looking for Shyvana, but there was nothing to be found, only the empty, cool sheets to keep him company. Again, a wave of heat washed over him and he glanced back towards the door. Smoke poured from the cracks of the door, orange light flickering from underneath.

_Fire?!_

Jarvan leaped to his feet and dashed to the door. It was hot to the touch when he pressed his hand to the wood. He flung the door open and yelped. Fire leaped at him like gremlins poking at his feet, dancing mercilessly as he stepped back, heat scorching his face.

"Shyvana!" Jarvan shouted into the the veil of orange fire, but as he inhaled to shout again, he sucked in heat and smoke and he doubled over coughing. His palms sizzled as they touched boiling hot stone. He snarled in pain and tossed himself back, crashing to the ground as he looked down at his red and black palms. He shielded his eyes against the fierce orange light, but he could already feel the flame jumping out to great him, creeping slowly forward. He stumbled backwards, trying to keep the panic from setting in, but he could already feel an icy claw gripping his chest.

He spun and stumbled over his own feet as he tried to run to the balcony. He crashed to the ground, his knee cracking against the marble and pain blossoming in his leg. He tried to roll, but his hip landed hard on the stone as well and he felt tears start to form in his eyes as pain now surged through his lower half. The roar of flames and the terror of the encroaching inferno pushed him to his feet though, his legs both protesting, threatening to give way. Jarvan limped to the door of the balcony and threw it open.

Icy wind carried the screams of his countrymen and the scent of charred flesh and burning buildings. Jarvan froze as he looked out over the proud city of Demacia.

"Wha..." He stammered. Gone were the gleaming gold and white spires with their banners flapping in the wind. They had been replaced with hollow shells of fire-blackened structures and haunted ruins. Smoke blacked out the sky, and the horizon glowed an menacing, ominous red-orange. The streets ran red with blood and the screams of man and woman, adult and child, echoed like a haunted banshee's cry riding upon a gale of wind.

This was no longer his home, it was a virtual hell on Runeterra.

"What..." Jarvan murmured under his breath, at a loss for words. "What has happened!?"

Fire began to blister his back as the entirety of his room was consumed in a raging, boiling inferno of flames. They licked at his heels and he stepped into the snow, the back of his legs now pressed against the railing of the balcony. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as the drop below him seemed to grow, extending and getting higher and higher. Jarvan's throat had been scorched dry as he tried to swallow his fear. He slid over the edge of the balcony and started to lower himself, stretching his toes down towards the balcony below, but his fingers slipped.

Jarvan watched as the fire blackened sky dominated his vision, and the falling sensation overwhelmed him, his stomach sliding up his throat, the burning in his esophagus replaced with the bubbling sensation of vertigo. The world began to swirl around him. Jarvan clamped his eyes shut, waiting for the impact.

…

Jarvan opened his eyes and glanced around. _Pure white? _Jarvan felt an icy claw grasp his heart. _I've seen this before... When I was killed..._ Jarvan tried to swallow, but his he couldn't force anything past the burning in his throat. He pushed himself up and looked around, realizing he had merely been enshrouded in mist. Chilly mud squelched between his fingers. He lifted some to his face; the mud was oily, black, and stank of iron, of blood.

The oppressive stench of rotting meat began to sting his nostrils, scorched by the magics that were wielded like weapons of mass destruction. Jarvan realized that it wasn't mist as the dry heat descended over him. The scents in the air were replaced with the smell of wood smoke and the cloying stench of overcooked meat. It was a greasy smell that stuck to the inside of your nose and made your eyes water. The air was hot and dry, all of the moisture burned away. Water was only just returning to the air as steam rose from the ashes of houses and bodies that lay strewn everywhere. The heat scorched Jarvan's lungs, and while he wanted to cough, the thought of opening his mouth cause his stomach to turn. It was difficult to breathe, the smoke everywhere, now growing heavy with the growing dampness in the air. It pooled close to the ground like a foul, insidious liquid.

_I have seen this before..._ Jarvan felt his stomach began to churn again. _The dragon's massacre—the entire village. _Jarvan paused and looked around. _There's something... different..._

The sounds of battle raged in the distance, and Jarvan looked to the skyline, a massive mountain rising in the distance. Its peak was hidden by the smoke and signs of war, the impenetrable haze of death that had settled across the land almost completely shrouding it from view. Fires and smoke still burned in places, casting eerie shadows across the destruction. Monsters and demons seemed to jump out in every direction, and the horrors of war were evident everywhere.

He paused.

_This is different than before... I had Shyvana by my side... _He blinked a few times and then urgency began to overwhelm him. "Shyvana!" His voice echoed around him, but it was soon consumed by the distant crash and splash of tactical magic spells and the clang of steel. The shouts of anger and of pain carried from the distance, harkening Jarvan back to a time long past.

As he began to move slowly through the desolation, he felt a mix of horror and disgust rush through him. The destruction was absolute; nothing had gone untouched. The remnants of a child's dollhouse lay scattered amid the mud, boot prints and blood splattered across it like the most horrifying of wallpapers. Demacian and Noxian uniforms decorated the many bodies, blood stains darkened to the shade of pitch and stinking of rot and gangrene. Jarvan paused, pulling the emblem from the chest of one soldier, feeling his heart tighten in his chest.

"This was no battle," Jarvan tried to quell his stomach. "This was wholesale slaughter." He tried to push on, but his feet began to feel of lead as the scenery began to wear on him. He felt his body growing weary, dreading pushing further through the desolation.

A flash of red upon the ground, a brilliant crimson, caught his eye.

"Shyvana!?" Jarvan exclaimed, his heart nearly jumping out of his chest. He bounded forth, stepping through mud, blood and guts, nearly crashing to the ground as he dropped to his knees, sliding the last few feet. A knot of Noxian soldiers lay strewn across the pool of red hair, obscuring much of it from vision. Some of them had been burnt down, others had been smashed by a heavy wooden beam and then burned to the blackened remnants of a barely recognizable human corpse.

_No no no no... _Jarvan shook his head, refusing to let his memory remind him of the scene he had seen like this before. His heart ached as he tossed Noxian corpses aside, trying to free Shyvana from the tomb of bodies. A body came apart in his hand, the squelch of still-warm-blood splattering across his face threatening to cause his stomach to finally give way. A another corpse's skin came away in a greasy sheet, clinging to Jarvan's palms like gloves. He shook the skin free and drug the corpse free, tossing it aside.

Ruby locks were stained by smoke and mud. Jarvan grimaced, his heart pounding in his chest, thundering in his ears as he slowly turned the body over onto her back.

_This is wrong... Shyvana was by my side..._

Jarvan felt as if the icy claw that had been slowly clamping down around his heart had suddenly ripped his being apart. A look of terror was frozen on the remaining half of Shyvana's face. The other half was burned away, only blackened flesh left to cling to the skull. Jarvan felt bile rise in his throat as tears stung his eyes. He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers.

"No... it can't be..." Jarvan gasped, his voice a mere croak. "Shyvana..." He cooed gently, brushing a few locks of hair from her face. "Shyvana..." He repeated, his voice frozen in his throat.

A single black raven, covered in oily black feathers lighted on a piece of metal that extended from the remnants of a building.

The raven's call was dark and haunted.

The sound echoed around him eerily.

"You..." Jarvan felt fury began to mount in his chest, washing away grief and pain. Pure, unbridled fury began to overwhelm him."SHOW YOURSELF SWAIN!" Jarvan bellowed skyward. "YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!"

Jarvan pushed himself up and took a step forward towards the raven, but he froze when he felt the ground shake and heard something crumble. He looked down and saw the ground crack beneath him, swallowing up the body of his beloved and begin to expand, gobbling up all of the desolation like a massive black hole. Jarvan jumped back and tumbled to the ground. A massive beaked beast exploded upwards from the pitch-colored vortex, rising hundreds of feet above Jarvan. The beaked face was contorted in rage, the cruel face of Swain exploding out of the beak, sneering at him, his laughter echoing through the roar of the monster. A flock of demonic raven twisted and turned, churning like a living, writhing hurricane. The face twisted about, contorting hideously, the echoing laughter taunting and mocking Jarvan as it boomed around him.

Feathery tentacles exploded from where Jarvan was crawling backwards, lacing around his limbs and chest and pulling him down against the ground like the entire weight of the world was crushing down on top of him. Jarvan felt himself getting dragged into the ground, something slimy tightening down around his neck. Swain loomed over him, blackening out the sky above them.

"_Jarvan!" _

_The voice was distant and hollow. _

Jarvan could smell Swain's disgusting breath, and feel the heat and saliva that sprayed over him as the bird-demon snarled and shrieked a malicious burst of laughter. Jarvan struggled with the bindings, but they didn't budge an millimeter. He opened his mouth to scream and shout, but he felt his jaw fall open and no sound came out. He looked down and saw his jaw fall away, rotten and black. Jarvan was rocked back as lances exploded outwards from Swain's chest and pierced him in the shoulders and thighs, holding him in place.

Jarvan tried to scream in pain, but he couldn't form the words.

"_Jarvan!" _

_It was louder this time, closer. _

Swain loomed just over his head and let his long black tongue hang out of his mouth. It steamed and dripped a slimy green mucous, some of it falling to the ground and sizzling as if it were burning away whatever it touched. Jarvan tried to shrink down into the ground, but he couldn't seem to sink any lower. Like a great snake, the tongue curled around his neck and tightened down. He could feel his flesh tightening and burning, his throat slowly being crushed. The great beak closed down around him, trapping him in pure, utter darkness.

Jarvan began to fall, dropping into a black abyss.

"JARVAN!"

_Shyvana!?_

Jarvan grabbed onto the voice and held on for dear life. He pictured her face and clamped his eyes shut, trying to escape the disaster, the terror that encapsulated his entire being.

Jarvan's eyes ripped open and he saw a pair of glowing magenta orbs hovering over his face. Jarvan blinked several times, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness.

Covered in a cold sweat, his chest heaving and out of breath, Jarvan sat up and ran a hand over his face. He swept his hair from his face and sat up, sweat streaming down his body as his heart drummed in his ears. He breathed deeply as Shyvana swept his hair, plastered with sweat, from his face. Jarvan froze a moment, taking in the worried lines of Shyvana's face before relief came crashing down over him like a wave breaking upon the coast. Jarvan felt his throat burn and he had to wipe his eyes as he stared down into the pale face of Shyvana, her gleaming eyes shimmering in the dim light.

"Shyvana?" Jarvan's voice was hoarse and strained. He cupped her cheek gently, running his hand up the side of her face that had appeared blackened in his nightmare, a chill running up his spine. She took his hand and held it in both of hers, pressing it to her lips and then gently resting it over her chest, letting her steady heartbeat soothe his mind.

"Shh..." She said softly, pulling him slowly towards her. "I'm here." She said softly, stroking his hair as he had done for her so many times before. "What's wrong?" she crooned gently, resting her cheek against the top of her head. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"I..." Jarvan froze, shaking his head and sitting up a bit. He still held onto Shyvana's hand, his body unconsciously afraid to let go of it. _It seemed so real, so terrifying, as if it hadn't simply been a dream. It felt so... gripping._ He took a deep and and looked up at Shyvana, trying to put on a brave expression.

"It was just a nightmare." Jarvan said, running his free hand over his face. "It was... terrifying." He said sheepishly, but Shyvana shook her head.

"I understand completely." She said offering him a brave smile. "You were calling out my name and thrashing wildly though, you really had me scared." She leaned up against Jarvan and breathed a sigh of relief. "I was scared you were dying or something..."

"I don't think so." Jarvan chuckled nervously, taking another deep breath as his chest finally stopped pounding. _There's no way that was just a nightmare._ Jarvan's heart stopped as he glanced towards the clock and then down at his beside table. Icy needles exploded in his stomach. The light atop the little box on his bedside glowed a brilliant, steady red.

The window exploded inwards in a shower of glittering shards of glass.


	17. Chapter 16: Ambush

"Is the mage in position?"

"Yes, sir. He has already begun."

"Very good." The man, shrouded in an oily black cloak, paused as he peered through a telescope at the tower. Perched on the ledge of the large windows that flanked the balcony doors, the only sign that the man was there was the subtle shift at random intervals of the mage weaving his craft. _It was if the shadow was moving. _He let a small smile rest on his lips. _An apt analogy for my men and I._

"Shall I prepare the others?" The second man stepped out of the shadows, revealing armor shrouded by a flowing black cape that looked sleek and blended perfectly with the darkness in the mixed light. While the snow had proved problematic to their movements at first, they had stuck to the shadows and had thus far avoided the attention.

"No, hold off for now." He shook his head, the black wrappings that concealed his face rustled in the silence of the night. "The defector said the Prince would be alone tonight." He turned and watched as the snow fell around them, settling on the shoulders of his subordinate.

"And you trust him?" The other man said with a low voice that wouldn't carry on the wind. There was a mix of hesitation and menace in his voice, but it was not threatening so much as just a desire to complete the mission cleanly.

"Not in the slightest." The first man said with a snort. "But with the increase in guard, one of our men may have been spotted. I fear we may be getting played, but getting the images planted in the prince's mind is one of our primary objectives." He grinned, but no one could see it beneath the shroud he wore over his face. "Why waste a golden opportunity."

"Of course, sir." The seconds said with a trace of hesitation in his voice.

The first dismissed his subordinate's unease as the inexperience of youth. He raised the telescope to his eye again and he felt a solid lump of ice settle in his stomach. "Sergeant... who is that?" He handed the junior noncommisioned officer his telescope and waited, closing his eyes for a few moments, praying he had just imagined something. He ran his thumb and index finger over his eyes. "Please tell me that's one of ours."

"It's not, sir." The sergeant shook his head as he watched the shrouded green and gray cloak clambered up the wall, heading for the balcony. "I don't recognize that pattern. It's definitely not one of ours."

"Shit." The commander growled. "Have the marksman move into position."

"Sir?" The sergeant said with a frown. "I thought we weren't supposed to kill the prince..."

"Not him, idiot." The officer snarled. He took a moment to control his temper and lower his voice again. "You know the directive. No survivors. No signs we were here. Nothing." The commander growled, shaking his head. _One death will be well worth the price of maintaining the security of the mission. _

"Sir?" The sergeant repeated, his voice now much fainter.

"You have you orders." The commander growled, turning with a swish of his cloak as he turned away.

"No, sir, you're going to want to see this." The sergeant said, extending the telescope back to its owner.

"What are you..." He turned, raising the telescope to his eye, following the sergeant's gesture up the tower. "What in the... oh shit." He watched as a another cloaked figure descended down towards the balcony, dangling from a rope and walking his way down the side of the tower.

"What do we do sir?" The sergeant said with a frown. "The mage is screwed."

"Its probably Demacian special forces." The commander hissed. "Fuck. Get the damned marksman into position. I don't want anything at all recoverable from that idiot's corpse." He spun on his heal, waving his men back. The shadows swirled for a moment, and then watched at six shadows descended, rising up to form the shapes of men. "Withdraw for now. We will meet in two days time. Dismissed." The shadowy shapes, each clad in an oily black cloak, bowed their collective heads and then vanished into the night.

"The marksman reports he is two minutes from firing position." The sergeant cupped his hand over his ear, listening to a small, fluttering creature that looked similar to a moth. It glowed a soft green that illuminated his hands in the dark, snowy night.

"Tell him he is free to fire on anyone he can get a clear line of sight on." The commander growled. "Make sure he is able to get out safely as well."

"Anyone, sir?" The sergeant said, hesitation marring his voice.

"Anyone other than the prince." The commander growled. _I want to go blow for blow. One for one, motherfucker._

"Sir." The sergeant said, nodding his head. "It will be done."

"Good." The commander turned his telescope to the mage who was so busy weaving his dream-craft spell he had completely lost track of his position and surroundings. _Trapped like a rat._ The commander sneered and he turned away with the swish of his cloak. _What a twit._

* * *

A sharp report came on the door three times, and then there was silence. Delancey paused and glanced at the guard standing next to the doorway to the Prince's bedroom, and waited until the guard nodded that he was ready, stepping to the side and bringing his weapon to a ready position. She took a deep breath and paused a brief moment, listening for anything malicious, be it the sound of crinkling armor, dripping blood, the moan of injured soldiers.

"Ready, sarge." The soldier said, a hardened look upon as his face as he raised his lance over his head for a vicious sideways sweep if need be. Delancey unlocked the door and pulled it open a crack. She saw a sliver of a Demacian Uniform.

"Who goes there?" Delancey said menacingly, her hand resting on her sword.

"Lieutenant Proudmast Vorscham and Gunnery Sergeant Alicia Juniper, reporting as ordered." The man said firmly. He produced a pair of military ID books and poked them through the crack in the door. Delancey pushed the door closed and opened the first booklet. She matched the serial number in the book to the one she had scribbled down on a piece of paper and then compared the second to another number. Satisfied, she sighed and opened the door to look at the man and the woman who were waiting outside. She glanced at the pictures, made sure they were correct, and then ushered them both inside.

"Sorry for the wait." Delancey said, waving them inside. "Please come in."

"Greeting, sergeant." Vorscham said, with just a bit of grit in his voice. Brown hair spilled down around his face, and though Delancey could see a scar creeping up from one side of his face, she merely glanced at the picture again, checking the lines briefly before nodding. Vorscham growled, squinting his eyes as he glanced around the room, pausing a bit to stare up at the soldier who stood just inside the door, his weapon raised. He grunted but limped past, heading for the couch that faced the fireplace. He lowered himself down, sitting silently.

"Hiya, Del." Alicia said with a smile, though it faded slightly when Delancey didn't respond in kind. Delancey simply glanced at the photograph, matching the slight striations along her neck to the ones in the picture before she sighed a breath of relief. "What's going on? We passed some really heavy security coming in and we weren't exactly made privy to any new developments."

"Gimme a moment, June." Delancey said, shaking her head. She stepped to the door and looked out along the hall and then to the guards on both sides of the door. Both soldiers stood as still as stone, but their eyes danced back and forth, left and right at quick intervals. _Good. _"Stay on guard. Challenge anyone who approaches."

"Yes, ma'am." One soldier growled before he returned to his stoney silence.

She shut the door and locked it, then waved the corporal who had been standing guard down. He lowered his lance then fell in at parade rest, his eyes watching the two newcomers warily. Delancey moved towards the fire as Alicia lowered herself into one of the chairs, watching as Delancey approached, her hand still hovering on the hilt of her sword. "Apologies for the formalities." Delancey said as she handed the two their identification papers back.

"This is kinda creeping me out." Alicia murmured, running her arms over the little bit of fabric that was exposed on her upper arm. "I haven't seen the palace on guard like this in ages."

"Apologies for the late summons as well, but the prince has run into some... _trouble."_ Delancey said with a frown.

"Don't tell me he got sentenced to house arrest again." Vorscham mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Did something happen to Shyvana?" Alicia said more urgently, ignoring the lieutenant's quip. "She was supposed to return to the barracks this evening."

"Shyvana is involved with this too, unfortunately." Delancey said, shrugging. "I'm not exactly sure what is going on, but from what I can tell, someone, or rather, some persons, have begun tailing the prince. Shyvana was faint this evening after eating something and the prince rushed her here to avoid complications with going to the infirmary of the hospital. He seems legitimately worried about the tail though, and he called for a lock down of the entire palace. He beefed up the guard, ordered regular patrols, as well as armed guards posted at essential posts around the grounds."

Something dangerous sparkled in Alicia's red eyes. "Is Shyvana alright?" Alicia said, a worried look crossing her face.

"As I understand it, I _believe_ she will be." Delancey shrugged weakly. "She appears to be sleeping off some sort of adverse reaction to something that may have been secreted into our drinks when we were visiting the Bandle City Ambassador."

"You would suggest subversion from Bandle City?" Vorscham said, raising an eyebrow. "Bold claims, sergeant."

"I don't believe it was by the ambassador's doing, but Shyvana seemed to react to the cocoa she consumed." Delancey shrugged again. "If someone found out some sort of chemical or poison that effects her specifically then there may be a delay reaction or something of the sort. I believe the prince is merely worried about the possibility."

"Uh..." Alicia said sheepishly, scratching at her cheek. "Well, I don't know if it was poison."

"You've seen here react to cocoa before?" Delancey said, surprised.

"Well, it was chocolate cake." Alicia said shrugging. "Extremely rich, dark chocolate cake to be specific. From the bakery on Merchant's row and the intersection with High street? You know the-..."

Vorscham cleared his throat.

"R-right!" Alicia said, shaking her head. "Anyways, I think the chocolate serves as an extremely potent aphrodisiac for Shyvana." She paused frowning, a bit of color tinging her cheeks pink. "Dark chocolate gets the most _enthusiastic_ result from what I can gather, though other chocolates have a similar effect, though much more mild."

"And you've tested this?" Delancey said, trying to hide her amusement. Alicia blushed a slightly deeper shade of pink.

"Not extensively." She tried to hide her pixie grin. "It was unintentional the first time. I thought it might be useful to know more about it so I gave her some chocolates to test her reaction to milk chocolate. It makes her warm and blush-y and relaxed a bit." She shrugged. "But I don't think it will hurt her even in large amounts."

"I see." Delancey said, chuckling slightly. "Well, I suppose that explains that." She glanced at the door and then ran a hand over her face. "And to think I left them alone like that."

"The prince would never take advantage of Shyvana in a state like that." Vorscham said firmly. "Well, I don't think he would." Vorscham's confidence faded a bit but he sighed and shrugged.

"You seem familiar with the prince." Delancey said, crossing her arms over her chest. Vorscham opened his mouth for a moment and then closed it rapidly, his lips forming a thin line. Delancey had seen a window of vulnerability open and then slam shut immediately again.

"Once upon a time, maybe." Vorscham growled.

"It might help to actually tell someone, Proudmast." Alicia said, frowning.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" Vorscham muttered, running a hand over his face. He pushed his hair up over his head, giving Delancey a startling view of the terrifying scar that ran over the entire side of his face, his right ear barely more than a hole in the side of his head. His golden eyes were mere slits as he glared at the gunnery sergeant. Alicia fit him with an angry glare and while he matched her for a few moments he final dropped his gave with a glower. "Fine."

"Should I go fetch Jarvan and Shyvana then?" Delancey said with a frown.

"No." Vorscham said, shaking his head. "Jarvan already knows the story. As for Shyvana... this isn't a story she needs to hear. Not yet at least." He snorted. "I don't need her pity, and she doesn't need to be pitying me either."

"You make it sound like she would care." Delancey said, frowning as she leaned back, tucking her chin into her collar. "As far as I had heard, there wasn't much love between the two of you."

"Shyvana may appear dangerous and a bit of a savage to those who choose to see her like that, but that's mostly the surface. She chooses to be cold and outwardly withdrawn." Alicia said, crossing her arms over her chest and fitting Delancey with a glare and then creasing her brow. Delancey glanced at her lap sheepishly, but Alicia finally sighed and shook her head. "I assume you've seen it yourself: She's akin to a little girl."

Vorscham snorted. "Yeah, a little girl who can turn into a massive, fire breathing dragon."

"I'm trying to make a point here." Alicia said, turning her glare onto Vorscham. He rolled his eyes and sat back, but shut his mouth and frowned. "I read the reports, I did my research and I've heard the rumors. Shyvana was hounded from birth to the point where she and Jarvan actually slew the dragon who killed her father. She never had a childhood, she barely had a chance to experience the things we take for granted." She shook her head. "She actually told me that the first time she ever actually had a cookie... was when Jarvan bought her one when they were in a village."

"That was barely a matter of months ago." Delancey said with a frown, putting the numbers together. "You mean to tell me..."

"Exactly." Alicia said with grave nod of her head. "I say she acts like a child, partially because she never got to be a child." She shook her head. "It's sad, but at the same time, I've made it my goal to make sure she enjoys her time her and doesn't come to hate Demacia." Her glare turned icy as she turned to stare at Vorscham. "Unlike some people."

"If I wasn't so hard on her, I don't think she would turn out any better if she were given free reign to do as she pleases." Vorscham growled, leaning forward, running his hands over his face. "I've watched you and her together, and her curiosity and fascination with the city and the new experiences you've been subjecting her to are enough to keep her reigned in." He stared at the floor, exhaustion creeping into the corners of his eyes and mouth, exaggerating the wrinkles that were just starting to form. "On the field of battle, or in the ring, as close as we can get it, she is nothing short of a demon."

"A demon?" Delancey said quietly, her eyes growing slightly larger in surprise.

"A demon, a goddess, whatever you want to call it, she is decidedly inhuman." Vorscham said shaking his head again as he sunk back in the chair and looked to the ceiling. "She's incredibly smart and incredibly quick on the uptake. She learns at a rate that makes even the best and brightest the Demacian Military could field look like mere children. Her strength is terrifying and her speed is blindingly fast." He grunted something between a snort and a nod of approval. "I saw her get pinned down by the two largest men in our unit as a part of a hold-breaking exercise. She tossed them aside like rag dolls..." He shivered.

"What?" Alicia said, now frowning.

"I know that you and the prince have ever confidence in her, but I'm not so sure sometimes." Vorscham shook his head. "She may act like a little girl and look like a regular young woman, but beneath that facade there is a wild beast itching to get free." He paused, letting a thousand yard stare settle on his face. "I've seen it come close to the surface. When she gets pressured or she feels threatened, her instincts starts to surface. She fights meaner, she hits harder, she reacts quicker." He shook his head. "And there are physical changes too."

"Physical?" Delancey said, raising her eyebrow. "What, does she start to change into the dragon? Cause that's hardly secret anymore." Delancey brushed hair from her eyes, tucking a stray blue stand of hair behind her ear. "I heard the rumors about what she did in front of the delegation from Ionia and Piltover."

Vorscham snorted and chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, if I hadn't been so stunned I would have dressed her down right there, in front of the king, ambassadors and everyone." There was a glimmer in his eyes and the barest of smiles tugged at the corner of his mouth. "The king was speechless and the ambassadors had been dazzled senseless. It wasn't exactly what the Major had been intending when the order had come down the pipe, but it worked wonders." He shook his head and sighed.

"You seem to be developing a soft spot, Proudmast." Alicia said with an victorious smirk.

"Maybe." He said with a shrug. "However, if you see fit to tell her that, I will see fit to reach up your ass and rip your tongue out of your head." Delancey burst into laughter when Alicia blushed and glanced away.

"You know, I never pictured you to be someone into the kinky things like that, June." Delancey said, grinning deviously. Alicia glared at her and sighed.

"Oh shut your trap, Del." Alicia said, crossing her arms over her chest and sitting back, ignoring them both. "You said there were visual changes with Shyvana?" Alicia frowned. "I haven't seen any of them."

"Well, aside from the giant fire-breathing dragon thing, she undergoes subtle changes when she begins to get angry." He paused. "I suppose angry isn't the best term. Furious is probably a better way of putting it. If she's cornered, and she's both angry and afraid, she begins to turn blue. Not all over... just here and there. Particular around the eyes." He ran his fingers across his cheekbones to gesture where. "It almost looks like scales begin to show through her skin too..." He shivered. "And golden eyes."

"That hardly seems menacing, Proudmast." Alicia said with a frown. "If golden eyes terrified me, I would have put in for a transfer a long time ago." Delancey chuckled and Alicia snickered but the somber glare from Vorscham silenced them both.

"Not golden in color like mine." Vorscham shook his head. "They shimmer and glow like molten gold, and they look straight at you like you're not a person, but meat. Cattle for the slaughter."

"You don't think she would ever attack someone, do you?" Delancey said hesitantly, glancing at the door.

"I don't know." Vorscham growled, sitting back and tucking his chin into his chest as he stared at the fire. "I would like to think she wouldn't, but I can't even begin to guarantee that. We're lucky though, I've been skirting pushing her far enough to reveal it but,I've only seen glimpses, and as much as my curiosity wants to see what would happen... I fear for the lives of those who anger her."

"Should I be as worried as I am about the young woman who's alone with my charge?" Delancey said frowning. "I mean she seemed stable enough today."

"She'll be fine with Jarvan." Vorscham said, shaking his head. "Unless someone managed to hurt Jarvan, I don't think we'll have an issue."

"Speaking of Jarvan," Alicia said. "Don't think we've forgotten about your story." Alicia crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, but Vorscham didn't wither, he merely looked perturbed.

"Another time, perhaps." Vorshcam said, settling into the chair. He let his head fall back and he closed his eyes, letting them rest. "That is a tale that need not be rehashed right now." He took a deep breath, held it for a few moments, then exhaled slowly. "Maybe at some point someone will actually need to hear it. Maybe then."

"Proudmast..." Alicia said softly.

"I thought I told you not to call me that?" He opened one eye and watched her for a moment as a myriad of emotions played over her face. "You might a well get some rest. Who knows when we're actually going to be needed." He settled deeper into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and kicking his legs out, crossing one over the other. He tucked his chin into his chest and then was silent.

"And he's out like a light." Alicia said, shaking her head. "Sorry about him. He's a bit grumpy from getting up in the middle of the night."

"I expect most of the guards are." Delancey said, shaking her head. "I can only hope that something turns up and people don't blame Jarvan for it."

"His hunches are usually correct." Vorscham grunted.

"I thought you were asleep." Alicia said, sticking her tongue out at the Lieutenant. He snorted and then pushed himself a bit deeper in the chair. Alicia waited a minute and then shook her head. "He does that sometimes."

"So what do we do now, just wait?" Delancey said, pulling herself to her feet and beginning to pace along in front of the fire.

"I mean, how long have you been waiting already?" Alicia asked.

Delancey looked at the clock and then shrugged. "Close to about three hours since we returned to the castle."

Alicia sighed, glancing at Vorscham. "Well I suppose we can alway-..." The sound of breaking glass echoed from within the Prince's bedroom.

"Move!" Vorscham bellowed as he sent the chair crashing to its side. He vaulted the table that sat between him and the doorway, sending a bowl of fruit crashing to the ground. He hit the deck, rolled and took two massive steps, bowling into the door full force. He crashed through and landed on his stomach, his lance in his right hand, a small buckler in his left.

Three people sat sprawled across the stone floor, one recovering quickly and the other two sitting dazed, holding their heads. One of the dazed men glanced in Vorscham's direction and then clambered to his feet. He began to bolt for the doorway of the balcony, but Delancey had cleared the wreckage of Vorscham's entry, and had a pair of throwing knives in hand. She snapped her arm back and let the first fly, snarling when it glanced off the intruder's armored boot. She let the second fly and grinned when it imbedded deep in the intruder's leg just above the armor and sent him crashing to the ground with a yelp of surprise and pain.

"Got it!" She whooped a cry of victory.

"Get down!" One of the infiltrators screamed, urgency cutting through her voice as she rolled to her feet and started running towards Jarvan. Delancey spun as she drew her sword, the metal blade ringing as it ran along the mouth of her sheath. Delancey slammed the butt of her sword into the woman's gut as she tried to dodge it, crashing to the ground and rolling till she ended up face down next to the wall. She pushed herself up, but her arms were weak, leaving her retching.

"You're a fool." Delancey growled, drawing a knife from her belt and twirling the blade through the air, snapping her arm back and then letting the blade fly. The infiltrator tossed herself to the side, the blade passing through her cloak, hitting the ground with a series of ringing _clanks_ as it pirouetted through the air and skittered to a stop on the stone.

"Enough!" Shyvana roared, flames rippling off of her body in sheet, the entire room around her freezing. She snarled and raised her hands before her, watching as her hands elongated and became vicious claws. She hunched her back and grabbed at her head, snarling and roaring in anger. She snarled as horns burst from her skull, slowly extending, arching back and up to a razor sharp point.

"Shyvana!" The small infiltrator gasped, a hand held to her stomach, her eyes turning to the open window. Shyvana's head snapped up, draconian slits for eyes glimmering and fierce gold, flames still rolling off of her body, swirling around her. She froze, the soft crackle of her flames dancing around her getting drowned out by a whistling sound. Jarvan grabbed her shoulders and tossed her aside, his body sinking slightly backwards. Shyvana shook her head and looked up, shaking away the draconian traits, blinking a few times and holding her head, hissing in pain as the horns retracted.

"Jarvan?" She shook her head and pushed her self up to her knees, glancing at Jarvan. "Jarvan?" He took two steps towards Shyvana and then staggered backwards a final step and crashed to the ground. Shyvana blinked a few times and then glanced down at Jarvan, slowly reaching out as the prince lay on the ground, a crossbow bolt sticking out of his shoulder. He was gasping for breath and clawing at his chest, the crossbow bolt shrouded in a sticky blue liquid, a dark, shadowy mist rolling off of it like evil manifested. "Jarvan... Jarvan!" Shyvana shouted, dropping to her knees.

"Sniper!" Delancey shouted, rolling away from the windows, pushing her back to the wall.

"June, cover the prince!" Vorscham snarled and she pushed himself up and hobbled forward with his lance raised up. "Stay away from the windows!" He raised it up to swing down at the infiltrator who had shouted as they began to pick themselves up, but golden eyes glared at him frown behind the scarf and cloak, stopping him in his tracks. The infiltrator leaped at him, landing on his chest and then kicking off, sending him tumbling to the ground, sprawled backwards. Another crossbow bolt whistled through, hitting the stone with a crack and a shower of sparks, slicing through the air where he had just been standing.

_What? _Vorscham slid behind one of the columns that stood between the window and the doors. _She saved me? _The whistle of an incoming bolt cut through the silence. "Incoming!"

June held her sword between the infiltrators and Jarvan and Shyvana as she slid between then and settled into a fighting stance. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and felt her hair behind the waver in the still air. Vorscham could feel the heat on his face as the bolt exploded and spread fire across the room. Vorscham shielded his face and watched the the bolt expand and envelope Jarvan, Shyvana and Alicia in a rolling ball of fire.

"How the fuck?" He stammered, watching as the flames burned brightly. "What the FUCK was that?"

"Explosive fire bolt!" One of the infiltrators shouted.

Vorscham blinked a few times, looking at the masked intruder with surprise, his mouth hanging open. "Wha..."

"Look!" Delancey pointed at the ball of fire as the flames started to die. Blue light glowed underneath as the fire receded, the shimmering image of Alicia standing defiant over top of Shyvana and Jarvan behind the blue barrier. as the blade she held was bathed in a brilliant blue light. A glowing blue shield dropped down over the three of them, leaving Vorscham and Delancey outside with the other two. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes glowing with the same blue light that formed the shield.

"You okay, Jarvan?" She said, her voice strained with the effort of maintaining the shield.

"Startled, but alright." Jarvan groaned, running a hand over his sweat covered face. Shyvana helped him up and pulled him into a sitting position next to the bed, looking at the shoulder. "Damn it that hurts..." he muttered.

"What the heck happened?" Alicia said, glancing down at the wound and grimacing.

"Jarvan was having a nightmare or something." Shyvana said shaking her head. "I woke him up, but almost immediately after, these three crashed in through the window." She looked angry, but there was a certain amount of worry in her eyes as she glanced down at Jarvan. "That looks bad..." She said, her hand hovering near the black-blue bolt, afraid to touch. No blood poured from the wound though, and Jarvan, while pale for the shock didn't seem to be in too much pain.

"I'm fine." Jarvan grunted, wincing as she tried to sit up.

"Careful..." Shyvana said softly, helping him up. He grunted again, his breaths quickening, watching Vorscham and Delancey with a frown.

Delancey hauled Vorscham to his feet and looked out over the three infiltrators. One stood close to the wall, his dark cloak shimmering and melding with the shadows as he wavered close to the wall. The other two were split up, the one who had vaulted off Vorscham's chest stood crouched in the corner, the gentle curves under her tunic displaying a feminine figure. She held her crossbow pointed in the direction of the black-clad infiltrator, but her eyes wavered on the third infiltrator who was still struggling with the knife that Delancey had sunk into his leg.

"Nice take down." Vorscham muttered as he held his lance in front of him, directed between him and the infiltrator. He wiped his mouth where the woman who had vaulted off his chest had planted a kick, blood dripping from his split lip.

"What's the plan?" Delancey said, holding her sword in her hand, gripping a trio of daggers between the fingers of her left fist.

"Sweep left and take the cheeky one with the bow." Vorscham growled. "I'm going to take the one in black and make sure the third doesn't go anywhere."

"Roger." Delancey said, frowning at the young woman who now crept up to the window, glancing out of it and frowning as she watched and waited, a crossbow in her hands. "Let's go." Delancey readied the knives in her left hand and grinned as the woman looked back out the window. "I'll teach you to ignore me..." She raised her hand back over her shoulder and snapped straight out in a single fluid motion, letting a blade fly at the young woman's crossbow. The infiltrator ducked down at the last second, dropping as the blades glanced off the stone and bounced away, clattering to the ground. Her eyes grew wide as Delancey lunged at her, her sword raised over her head, bringing it down in a cleave that was aimed at the infiltrator's head. She rolled away as Delancey's sword struck the stone, bouncing it back and sending her rolling away. Delancey hissed as pain rain through up her hands, a fragment of stone slicing her cheek.

"What the hell?" The infiltrator stammered, taking a half step backwards and then faltering. She stumbled, dropping below the horizontal slash that Delancey lunged for, sending her crashing to the ground. She rolled immediately left as the blade crashed down again, sliding to her feet in a single motion. She started to dash backwards away from Delancey and the window, but she she twisted to try and bring her crossbow up, Delancey stuck her foot out in a sliding tackle, catching the infiltrator's leg and sending her sprawling to the ground, her small body bouncing as she hit hard. She tried to roll away again, and started to, getting a leg underneath her body, but Delancey jerked her leg out from under her, sending her crashing down again. The infiltrator dropped, but as she did, the young woman twisted her body and lashed out with her boot, striking Delancey's arm and sending the sergeant's sword skittering away.

Delancey snarled as pain blossomed in her wrist, glancing down at where her steel bracer had buckled under the force of the kick. She started to go for another weapon, but as Delancey turned into the woman, the infiltrator tucked her knees into her chest and then slammed both heels into Delancey's breast plate. As Delancey expelled a gasp of breath, she saw the woman screw her face up against the impact between her ankles and the armored chest plate. Delancey stumbled backwards and hit the ground, gasping for breath and wheezing as she pulled another trio of throwing knives from her leg mounted holder, snapping her arm back and letting them fly again. The infiltrator rolled, a sickening crack as her shoulder hit the ground, a yelp of pain escaping her lips as the slid to a stop as the knives clatter away, all of them missing.

"Cheeky little cunt!" Delancey snarled. She pulled a massive knife, the length of her forearm, off her leg and then pushed herself into a kneeling position, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. "Stay still so I can put you out of my misery..." She raised her blade up and started to push herself to her feet, but an ear shattering screech instantly caused her to wince, duck, and rolling away as a massive bird swooped in, barring massive, razor sharp talons. The bird banked as it shredded through her cloak, rising above the bubble of blue energy and then coming around again. "A bird?" Delancey stammered, taking half a step back and readying a strike. The bird swooped and dived again, extending its talons and grasping at the blade.

"Valor! No!" The infiltrator gasped, trying to find her crossbow. She watched in horror as the bird broke off it's dive at the last second, snap rolling left and coming out, it's talons clicking off the ground as it bounded up and fought for height. "Stay back, Val!" The bird screeched defiantly, diving again, but the infiltrator had managed to get a hold of her crossbow, pushing herself into a sitting position and raising the weapon, trying to get a clear view on the attacker."Move, Valor!" The bird snapped at Delancey as she tried to fend it off with the knife, while simultaneously using it to keep the bird from gashing her arms and eyes. Delancey stumbled backwards, using the knife to slice her weapons belt, pulling the sheath off it to swat at the bird. She snarled as the bird started to back away, but Delancey lunged and managed to find a hit with the long sheath.

"Stupid bloody bird!" Delancey snarled as she went for another knife.

"You bitch!" The infiltrator scrambled along the ground towards where the bird had crashed to the stone and now pecked at his wing, held at an odd angle. The moment of panic faded and the woman rolled, bringing the bow up, but a throwing knife struck the bow and knocked it to the side as the Demacian soldier charged with her hand back, drawing a blade. Delancey pawed her way forward on all four, landing on top of her, lunging and knocking away the infiltrator's bow. Delancey ripped the woman's face wrappings off and then froze, her hand raised, spikes sticking out from the steel knuckled guards of the dagger she clutched in her hand.

"You're... you're just a child..." Delancey stammered, her hand faltering. The young woman whimpered as Delancey used her knee to pin the young woman's arm to the ground. Delancey frowned and then kicked the crossbow away. "What the hell?"

"I'm a friend of the prince." She stammered, wincing as Delancey pushed herself off, and twisted her around, ripping the young woman's belt off and using it to detain her hands. "Please..."

"Just shut the fuck up and stay down." Delancey hissed as she shook her head. She kept the woman pinned, face down, and turned to look for another threat. "Lieutenant?"

"Go after him!" Vorscham snarled, jerking his head in the direction of the balcony door. The man with the oily black cloak was limping towards the door, a massive bloody streak forming along the ground as he dragged his leg, hobbling along. He cleared the doorway, hobbling towards the edge of the balcony. He glanced over the edge of the balcony. Delancey went for a throwing knife but she snarled angrily when couldn't find any. _I wasted to many of the stupid little girl!_ She scooped the weapons belt up from the ground and drew her falcata short sword as she dashed towards the balcony, tossing the belt aside.

"Don't move!" Delancey snarled at the man on the balcony, his head jerking up and around.

"Wait!" The young woman shouted, maneuvering herself into a better position. "The sniper..." As if called down by her words, a the whistle of a bolt and the clank of the bolt striking her armor sent Delancey diving for cover. She snarled, as she looked at the deep gash is her shoulder pauldron.

"God dammit!" She snarled, she glanced out from behind the pillar, snarling as another bolt struck the stone a few centimeters away from her hand. "I can't fucking see where he is!"

"The tower." The young woman said with a frown. Delancey glanced back at her with wild eyes. She rolled across the gap in the balcony and then crawled forward to where the detained woman sat. She grabbed the young woman by the collar of her cloak and hauled her to the side, slamming her into the wall.

"You say you're a friend of the prince but you know these things!" Delancey snarled, her hair now wild. The woman gasped for breath, but Delancey picked her up, bringing her closer to her face. "Speak!"

"Across the way, he's at the very top shooting down." The young woman wheezed, tears forming in her eyes against the impact with the wall.

"How did you..." Delancey began to say, leaning backwards and glancing out the window, a frown contorting her face. She glanced at the bird and then shook her head, pulling the young woman up to meet her eye to eye. "Why are you helping us? How can I trust you?"

"I'm not an enemy..." She said weakly, tugging on the restraints, glancing over at her bird. It still bit pitifully at the feathers on its wing, trying to hold it steady, though the wing still stuck out at an odd angle. The young woman shook her head again. "I'm a friend of the prince and Shyvana!" She was desperate now. "I can explain later!"

"Then what were you..." Delancey shook her head, dropping the young woman and glancing back towards the room. Alicia held the blue magical barrier up still, though Delancey could see that the gunny was getting faint, her chest heaving with every breath, her shoulder and arms shaking violently. "How's the prince, June?" She shouted, but the distraught look from the gunny sent a shiver down Delancey's spine. "Hold on I'm com-..."

"Don't let him get away!" Vorscham snarled, still wrestling with the first man Delancey had disabled with the knife. Delancey glanced once at Alicia and then back to where the man sat trying to bandage his leg with a strip of his cloak. The glossy black material wouldn't knot and his hands were fumbling. Delancey turned back to the Lieutenant and watched as green energy swirled around the infiltrator's fist and Vorscham slammed his arm to the side. Bolts of visible green energy sprayed out, leaving blast marks on Jarvan's wall, the stink of ozone filling the air. Vorscham tried to grapple the man into a hold, but The man cocked his arm forward and then slammed Vorscham on the nose and sent him sprawling backwards on the ground.

"Son of a..." Vorscham shouted, grasping at his face, blood pouring from behind his hands. The man had rolled onto all fours and was now crawling towards the window, but Vorscham, blood pouring from his nose, lumbered forward and dived onto him, sending them both crashing to the ground again. "Go DOWN you fucking bastard!" Vorscham growled, wrapping an arm around his neck. He tried to lever his arm around to secure and apply pressure to the choke hold, but the man was snarling and kicking with his good leg. The masked man brought his leg up and yanked Delancey's throwing knife from his leg with a snarl and then his hand began to glow orange. A cylinder of light formed around his forearm and his hand began to glow red, the blade coated in a sheath of sizzling orange energy. He reached out and then brought the blade crashing into the side of Vorscham's chest plate.

"FUCK!" Vorscham shouted, ripping the man off and then snarling in pain as he let the man roll away. He grabbed the pain and howled, his hand coming away pink and steaming; the blade was still red hot."God fucking dammit! FUCKING FUCK!" He snarled, grasping at his hand as he kicked his way out of the avenue of fire that ran straight down the middle of the room. Crossbow bolt now rained in a periodic intervals, striking the ground and illuminating the room.

"Lieutenant!" Delancey shouted, pushing up against the wall and watching as the man Vorscham had been stabbed by slunk over the wall and disappeared over the edge. She started to move out of her cover to jump at the first man who was still struggling with the blade that Delancey had lodged deep in his leg. He screamed in pain as he ripped it out, blood staining the snow a gruesome crimson color. He discarded the cloak with a curse and rolled, trying to haul himself over the balcony, but as he levered himself up, his hand slipped in the snow and he landed on his bad leg. Delancey's blade must have shredded his Achilles tendon, because as he caught himself with the bad leg, he snarled and howled, collapsing back onto the ground in a heap.

"You okay, LT?" Delancey said as an eerie silence started to settle over the room.

"Hell fucking no!" He growled, but she watched as he ripped a strip of cloth from his cloak, wrapped it around his burnt hand and then grabbed at the blade. He gritted his teeth, his normally tan skin looking unusually pale as sweat dripped down his brow. He ripped the blade out of his chest plate and snarled angrily as he did, his face contorting in a mix of anger and pain. "Bastard caught me off guard." Vorscham growled. "He was no amateur, special forces training and everything."

"What the hell is going on, sir?" Delancey said, shaking her head.

"You tell me." Vorscham spat back as he unclasped the chest plat and lifted his tunic, examining the blow. It had easily pierced his chest plate and cut into him, but the strike had been precisely aimed, directly into his rib cage, between the lowest two floating ribs. "He didn't get me very deep I don't think." He shook his head and dropped the tunic. "Heat of the blade cauterized the wound and everything. Stupid punk. What about yours?" Delancey pointed to where the young woman was worming her way towards the bird.

"She claims to be a friend of the prince and Shyvana." Delancey shook her head. "Never seen her before. You?"

"Fuck if I know." Vorscham growled. "Alicia, hows the prince?" He turned towards the gunny and then frowned.

"I think he was poisoned." She said, shaking her head, her voice trembling. "Shyvana removed the bolt that hit his shoulder, but there is poison in his system. The dose doesn't appear to be lethal, but we really need to get him to a hospital."

"Hold out just a little longer, June!" Delancey tried to sound reassuring, but the pain in the gunny's chest was starting to show on her face. She nodded bravely, but even through the blue barrier her face was ghostly white.

"Damnit." Vorscham hissed. " She won't be able to hold much longer. What about the other one? There was a third..."

"I got him in the tendon and he screwed his leg up trying to go over the railing. He hasn't been able to get himself up over it and the howling hasn't stopped either." She peeked out and then ducked back, the man was still nursing his lower leg, a steady stream of cursing and yowling from pain poured through the door.

Vorscham leaned out to see the man starting to haul himself up towards the railing. "Fuck he's getting ready to jump."

"Incoming!" Delancey shouted as the whistle of the crossbow's bolt filled the air. She ducked back behind the pillar and waited for it to strike the stone. The shooter didn't seem to be aiming for anyone in particular, just trying to keep them behind cover. The meaty _THUNK_ of the bolt hitting flesh echoed through the room. Delancey immediately began to look around for who had been hit, but flickering orange light lit the stone leading in from the balcony.

"Shit!" Vorscham snarled, watching as the man who had been injured was consumed in a ball of flames. "If he dies..." The man screamed as he finally pulled himself over the railing, disappearing over the edge with a banshee's cry of pain. "For fuck's sake!" He shouted, bouncing his fist off the stone floor. Smoke rising from beneath the balcony confirmed his fears.

"Lieutenant!" An officer shouted as Demacian soldiers started to hustle in the door. Men with shields pushed up towards them, holding the heavily armored steal plate between the wounded Demacians and the window and balcony. "What the hell is happening."

"Sniper, Far tower?" Delancey said glancing at the young woman. She nodded silently, cradling the bird in her lap. Delancey wondered how she'd managed to get the restraints off, but she shook her head and dismissed it. "I think he's gone now, but two got away."

"One of them is probably dead." Vorscham said, shaking his head as a medic jogged up and dropped to his side. "Executed by the archer." Disgust rolled through his voice. "I don't know about the third. He was badly injured but managed to slip away over the balcony when he surprised me." The medic started to remove his chest plate, but Vorscham smacked the young man's hands away. "The prince needs help." He gestured to where the prince still lay on his back.

"He's getting it, sir." The medic said, knocking the lieutenant's hands out of his way. "Now be quiet before I have you detained. I need to check your injury for poison as well."

"Fuck it." Vorscham muttered, but didn't oppose the young man. Instead he turned back towards where Alicia, Shyvana and Jarvan were. The magical barrier finally fell and Alicia collapsed to the ground, just barely catching herself before she hit the ground. Blue magic energy poured off of her body, draining through her shoulders and sparkling through the air as it dispersed. Her chest heaved and her already pale skin was as white as snow. Sweat poured from her face, but she turned towards Shyvana, a weak smile on her face.

"Is Jarvan okay?" Alicia stammered, her breathing weak. Shyvana's face was a mask of confusion and grief, but she had been shoved aside by the medics. Shyvana glanced at her and shook her head in a bix of fear and confusion.

"I don't know..." Shyvana said, shaking her head. "Its not something I've ever seen before... He's so cold."

"He's weak, and his pulse is thready." The field surgeon said, glancing at the long, narrow cylinder that was pitch black, darker than the deepest void, an eerie blue light glowing from it. Dark blue mist pooled in the bottom of the metal pan it had been placed into, like a malicious soup, swirling and billowing menacingly. "I've never seen a poison like this though." He shook his head. "I can't know if he's going to make it here. I need to get him back to the hospital."

"But what about..." Shyvana began to say but the surgeon shook his head.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." he said, his lips a grim line and his brow knit in frustration. "I don't know what to tell you." He turned to the men who were assisting him. "Get him onto a stretcher and get him out of here. Full guard. Double time." They nodded silently and went about their work, moving Jarvan onto a stretcher.

"Wait..." Shyvana stammered, reaching out towards the prince as he was lifted away and carried out of the room. "But.. Jarvan.. I..."

"Shy..." Alicia murmured, pulling herself up to the dragoness. "He'll be okay." She tried to sound encouraging, but the weakness of her voice and her fluttering eyelids caused Shyvana's stomach to quiver. Alicia collapsed at Shyvana's feet.

"June..." Shyvana stammered, blinking away tears in surprise. "Hey, June..." She shook the gunnery sergeant's shoulders but didn't get a reply. She looked to one of the medics. "Help..." She tried to shout, but her throat was closed up and sore, and tears began to run down her cheek. It emerged as barely a rasp.

"I got her." A medic dropped down next to her and pulled Alicia from her arms. "She's just exhausted. She'll be fine." He said softly. He glanced at Shyvana and blushed slightly, turning back to the gunny, laying her out and unfolding a blanket, tossing it over her.

"I..." Shyvana's voice died in her throat before she could say anything else. She brushed the tears from her eyes as Delancey helped Vorscham over towards the dragoness. Delancey let Vorscham sit on the edge of the bed and then draped a blanket over Shyvana's shoulders.

"Thanks." Shyvana said, weakly, trying to shake the shock she felt off.

"Buck up." Vorscham said, doing his best to sound nice. "Jarvan's in the best care in all of Valoran. There's only a slim chance he might die."

"He might die?" Shyvana said with a small voice, her eyes growing wide. Tears streamed down her cheeks again and she buried her face in her arms.

"Damnit LT." Delancey hissed. She dropped down next to Shyvana and draped an arm gently over the dragoness's shoulders. "There, there." Delancey cooed, trying her best to comfort the dragoness, remembering what Alicia had said before. "He'll be just fine. Don't worry." Shyvana sniffed and nodded silently. "Come on, we'll get you dressed and we'll follow them to the hospital."

Shyvana nodded, as Delancey rested a hand upon her shoulder. Shyvana sniffed a few times and then turned, looking over the room.

Delancey stood up and looked back at the room as well. Blood, fire blackened stone, weapons and armor and the stick of battle was everywhere. She glanced down at the Shyvana and then followed her gaze out of the small gap that the shield bearers didn't cover, getting a glimpse of the tower. She felt a shudder go through Shyvana's shoulders. She started to comfort the dragon again, but when she looked down again, her voice froze in her throat.

Shyvana's eyes glimmered a fiery gold color, and the skin around her cheeks was almost blue in color, slight ridges showing in her skin, the overlapping shape of scales. Delancey took half a step back, blinking a few times as lines of black traced through Shyvana's hair instead of the rich ruby red.

Shyvana hadn't shuddered out of fear for herself of Jarvan, she had shuddered out of pure, unbridled rage.


	18. Chapter 17: Hospital

Jarvan shivered as he opened his eyes and blinked a few times, staring up at a sterile white ceiling. He groaned as he sat up and pushed himself up in the small bed, glancing around. An IV was dripping from a clear bag that hung on the head of the bed, the clear line leading somewhere under his sheets. He tried to move his arm and felt something tug on his forearm, telling him where the IV went. He grumbled and pushed himself up, shuddering as he pushed himself into a sitting position. His head swam for a few moments, the room spinning about before it settled and sank back to normal, wobbling only slightly as Jarvan shut his eyes and rubbed them with his right hand. He opened his eyes gingerly, letting out a sigh of relief when the room wasn't spinning. The sterile room was a mix of disorienting and overly clean. It smelled of antiseptics and stale blood. He glanced down, a sleeveless hospital tunic tied loosely over his chest, he opened it and glanced over his body. His chest was wrapped with bandages, mostly over his left shoulder and winding down his left arm in a sling, all the way down to his finger tips.

He tugged back some of the bandages on his hand, his stomach flip-flopping at the color of his skin. There was a dark shade of pale bluish-black instead of the pale mix of pink and tan, his veins standing out in a horrifying shade of black, spread out like spider's web under the surface of the skin. He sucked in a gasp of breath, biting back bile, tugging the bandages back into position, his hand brushing against his arm. He hissed as pain shot up his arm, arcing through his shoulder, striking his chest, biting at him like a hundred knives being forced into his chest from the stump of a shoulder. He took a deep breath, letting it out softly through his nose as the pain slowly subsided, leaving a cool burn in his chest.

The center of the largest swath of bandages over his chest was tinged a pale pink, damp to the touch. He brushed his fingers along it, a sharp bite of pain sending electricity cutting through his body like a blast of lightning. He gasped for breath, laying back slightly, sinking into the bed. He tugged the edge of the bandages back along his collarbone, black veins coursing out from where the color turned from a pale blue to the warm tan of his normal skin. His hand went to the edge of the bed, grasping the first thing he could get his hand on.

"What... the... fu-..."

"Feeling better, captain?" A cheeky voice said from the side. Jarvan tugged the bandages back over his chest, hissing as he accidentally brushed his hand along the skin. He blinked a few times, and then wiped the sweat from his face.

"Forsythe?" Jarvan said, blinking and shaking his head. He looked over and felt a grin spread over his face. He chuckled once and then gasped, biting back some of the pain. "Not really." Jarvan muttered with a lopsided frown-turned-grin. "What are you doing here?"

The tow headed soldier shrugged and grinned mischievously at the prince. "They needed security on target. Someone you knew, but most of your staff is too busy being debriefed. I've been in 'recuperative therapy' for the last few weeks." He made the motion of the quotation marks with his fingers, rolling his eyes at the same time. "Plus, the doc wanted someone to keep an eye on you two to keep any hanky-panky from happening." Jarvan glared at Forsythe, but the younger soldier sniggered and smiled, gesturing to the padded chair next Jarvan's bed. The prince glanced down, surprised at the blanket wrapped lump that was topped with a mound of ruby red hair.

"How long has she been here?" Jarvan said, a soft smile forming on his face, as he ran his hand over the hair and smiled.

Forsythe shrugged, still grinning. "All night. For the last week." Jarvan's hand froze on top of Shyvana's head.

"A week?" Jarvan said, frowning.

"Yep." Forsythe said with another shrug. "Better part of one at least. From what I've heard, you got stuck in the shoulder with a poison bolt or something and ended up in a coma."

"I don't remember any of that..." Jarvan frowned. An ache in his shoulder seemed to subconsciously tell him that what Forsythe had heard about the bolts was true. It also served to explain the black and blue coloration on his chest and arm.

"The question is: what exactly do you remember?" Forsythe asked. "I've heard a few rumors myself but I don't know how much I should tell you."

"Why wouldn't you tell me everything?" Jarvan's brow furrowed.

"You'll do something stupid." Forsythe said with a knowing grin that mocked of how true he was. Jarvan gave him a resigned glare. "The doctor told me to let them know when you got up, but I doubt you want to deal with that right away so I'll hold off till you want."

Jarvan's brow slackened and he sighed, wincing as his shoulder fell. He ran his free hand over his chest, skirting around the wounded shoulder, his other arm held in a sling to keep it immobile. Bandages wound all the down his arm, and though he could feel a tingling in his arm, it was mostly numb. He grimaced as he tried to move his fingers, but couldn't get the to move. "How about my shoulder, can you tell me happened to my shoulder?"

"I wish I could." Forsythe said, raising his hand to forestall Jarvan's protest before it could be voiced. "I don't know anything. I'm fairly certain that none of the doctors know what exactly you were hit with, because they don't have any idea how exactly to treat it either." Jarvan glared at the arm and felt his eye twitch as he continued to try and move his bandaged fingers. "Between that and the coma, you've been stuck here with me. Shyvana visits in the evenings after her training is done for the day, but she usually spends most of it sleeping, she's pretty much exhausted." He chuckled, wearing an oddly affectionate smile, like that of a brother looking after his sister when a boy came around to take her on a date. "She does what she can to try and take care of you, but all she ends up doing is fretting the nurses usually."

"Sounds like her." Jarvan said chuckling. He had heard the stories about how she and Quinn had been at odds about treating some of Jarvan's wounds. Jarvan winced as he laughed at the memory. "What about this damn arm? Anything at all?"

"Sorry, boss." Forsythe said, a troubled frown slipping onto his face. "Like I said: No clue on that one. Doc doesn't seem to know much, and as such, I can't tell you anything about it either."

"So your telling me I've lost all use of my right arm?" Jarvan felt frustration building in his chest, his right hand contorting into a fist. His knuckles were white as he raised his fist up and started to bring it down on the arm of the bed, but the sound of flesh hitting flesh and the warmth of a hand on his fist caused him to slacken his frown. The blanket shrouded lump stirred as Shyvana sat up, blurry eyed and pink faced, a mark along her cheek showing where she had been laying on her arm. She wore a tight fitting undershirt and the bracers for her trousers ran over her shoulder as she blinked a few times looking up at him.

"Jarvan..." Shyvana's voice was small as she rose up out of the chair, tears welling in her eyes. "You... you..." She rubbed her eyes as she sat up, pulling the blanket around her shoulders. She glared at him furiously, blushing slightly as her lower lip quivered, her brow furrowing as her magenta eyes burned through him with an accusatory glare. "You complete idiot!" The volume of her voice took Jarvan by surprise, and while he had been expecting sympathy, she hadn't been expecting such a scathing attack.

"W-w-what?" Jarvan stammered, trying to hide this surprise.

"You know what you did!" Shyvana spat angrily, turning away and tugging the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Jarvan looked to Forsythe out of confusion and desperation, but Forsythe simply grinned and shrugged, leaning back and sinking slightly deeper in his bed, lacing his hands behind his head and whistling to himself.

"Shyvana..." Jarvan said, gently resting his good hand on her shoulder. "I understand if you're angry..." His voice trailed off and he sighed, running his hand through his hair, clearing it over his head. "Actually, I can't." He said with a soft chuckle. "I can't remember anything."

"...What?" Shyvana said with a small voice. "You mean don't remember anything? Like nothing at all?" She shook her head and then pushed herself up onto the edge of the bed, shoving her face into his and glaring at him. Desperation wracked her face as she searched his for some explanation. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him, her gaze dancing over him. Jarvan could feel the heat from the tip of her nose against his cheek as she searched his eyes as if some sort of answer was hidden away. "Who am I? What is my name!?"

"Easy, easy." Jarvan said, grinning and pulling her face a bit closer and then pressing his lips gently against hers and then released her chin with a smile. "I remember you plenty well, my love, Shyvana."

"Oh." Shyvana said blushing furiously. "I-I-I... Well then, what do you remember?"

"Well I remember spending the evening with you and Del and then coming back to my rooms, falling asleep and waking up with you in my arms after a really bad nightmare." Jarvan ran his hand over his face, shaking his head. "I remember the window breaking and that's it." Shyvana was silent for a few moments as she stared at Jarvan's shoulder and then blush slightly. "Hmm?" Jarvan tried to prompt her to speak, but she shook her head.

"You protected me while I was trying to transform." She frowned and then dropped her gaze to the ground. "I was still so weak from the day before and I couldn't transform. I wasn't paying attention and would have taken the bolt but you jumped into the way and saved me." Her blush deepened slightly and then she looked up at Jarvan. "I just wanted to say thank you. I don't know what would have happened if I'd been hit."

"Of course." Jarvan said with a smile, tapping her on the nose. "But why would you be mad about that?"

Shyvana sighed and then glanced away. "You could have just knocked me out of the way, you know... I'm not so frail that I can't take a fall on my own."

"Chivalry is such a pain in the ass, isn't it?" Forsythe chimed in, chuckling.

"Oh, be quiet." Jarvan said, sitting back with a sigh and a wince as pain shot through his arm. "Chivalry is a Demacian responsibility, and not to mention a man's obligation." He glance over to where the tow headed soldier relaxed on his bed. "Not that you'd know anything about being a man."

"Yeah, yeah, screw you." Forsythe said, waving the prince off. "I know when to be formal and when to not bother."

Jarvan blushed slightly when he saw Shyvana sit up a bit straighter, as if she were about to state something about how it was her job to screw Jarvan. He felt a grin tug on his face. Jarvan snorted and glanced back down at Shyvana, lacing his fingers through hers, holding onto her hand tightly. Jarvan looked back to Forsythe. "How come you're still in the hospital? I would have thought you would have been released by now."

"The doc wanted to hold onto me just a little bit longer." Forsythe said with a shrug. He covered the socket of his left eye and his brow creased ever so slightly. "They tried to get me a replacement eye but the socket was too damaged to replace it with an artificial eye. They even brought in a Yordle inventor from Piltover who said that he could fix me up, but when he got to talking about it, turned out he wanted to install a bunch of hextech stuff in my head." He gestured to the side of his head all the way back to his ear. "I didn't want that, so I politely refused. Nice guy, he tried to convince me that it wouldn't be even remotely invasive or barely noticeable, but still, the thought of hextech machinery in my body..." Jarvan watched him shiver.

"So what are you going to do?" Jarvan said with an uncomfortable frown.

"The surgeon said that without two function eyes, be them hextech or human, I probably wouldn't ever be able to fill a military combat position ever again." Jarvan watched as Forsythe's hands convulsed into fists, white knuckles gleaming as he sighed. "I don't know if I'd ever really fit in to a normal lifestyle though. The doctor has been trying to help, but unless I let them put all those gadgets in my head, I don't really see an out here."

"So what are you planning on doing?" Jarvan said, a sense of dread descending over him, pooling in the pit of his stomach.

"I've decided to go ahead with my retirement." Forsythe said, his voice slightly detracted as he glanced out the window that sat beyond his bed.

"But surely they don't know if your wounds are inoperable..." Jarvan started to say, trying to stay optimistic.

"I'm not dumb enough to think I have a chance." Forsythe spat, anger slipping into his voice. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself, but Jarvan could see where he gripped the blanket with white knuckled fury. "I'm useless."

"You're wrong..." Jarvan hissed, trying to fight the sick feeling in his stomach. Forsythe turned towards him, giving him a full view of the massive scar that ran from deep in Forsythe's hair line, down across the ruined eyes and down his cheek to his jaw. The eye was closed, hiding the empty socket, but it had been stitched up along the cheek, the scars of the surgery still visible where they had tried to correct the eye.

"Look, don't try and tell me you need a soldier who can't see or fight." Forsythe snapped, glaring at Jarvan. Jarvan felt desperation, anger at the situation he had forced upon his follower, anger that something like this could happen to his friend. He glared at the bed with a mix of anger and confusion. He glanced over at where Forsythe still sat in his bed, a look of anger now clear upon the towheaded man's face. "And don't you look at me like that!" Forsythe leaned towards the edge of the bed, his left eyelid fluttering open to give Jarvan a gruesome view. "Forget about me! Move on already, you don't have time to worry about me!" His eye grew wild as he gripped the edge of the bed with a vice like hold. "Two and a half years ago you made Issacs a promise! Don't tell me you forgot about it!"

"Forsythe!" Jarvan shouted, snapping the man out of his desperation crazed state. Forsythe slowly sat back, a look of depression washing over him. Forsythe let out a pathetic chuckle that sounded like a half choked sob.

"How did you..." Jarvan said quietly, watching as Forsythe's head slumped and his shoulders fell.

"Just let me get on with my life." Forsythe said, resignation filling his voice. "I beg you." Silence filled the room as Forsythe waited for his commander to cut him loose, so that he wouldn't be dragged down any further.

"Surely you're not just going to roll over and take a defeat like that." Shyvana said, a mix of anger and disgust in her voice. "You're a soldier of Demacia, are you not? What happened to never retreating in the face of battle?"

"I can't fight if I can't see!" Forsythe snarled, bringing his fists down on the bed hard, frustration putting venom into his voice. "I'm not a soldier anymore! I'm nothing but a liability!"

"Shut your mouth!" Shyvana snarled. "Who says you can't fight?" She pulled herself to her feet and glared down at him, her fists posted on her narrow hips. "You fought Kampf, who only had a single eye, with your eye gone. You did fine. You survived. Now you must overcome." A look of anger settled on his face. "What would Isaacs think if he saw you moping about like this?"

"It's out of my control!" Forsythe said, his voice growing weaker, his voice starting to falter.

"Bullshit!" Shyvana snapped, still glaring at him. "You know that's rubbish as much as I do."

"Shyvana." Jarvan said, evenly, trying to defuse the situation. "If he's made his decision then there is nothing we can do." Jarvan paused, looking over at Forsythe as the younger soldier attempted to glare a hole in the blanket that covered his bed. His face burned from having been called down and being attacked so, but he had a look of resignation on his face that belayed the anger. Jarvan felt a frown forming but he tried to shut it aside with a sigh. There was fire in the young man's eyes, anger at having been talked down to, but there was no retort, no bite back, no fight. _Maybe there is no fight left in him after this..._ Jarvan shook his head, refusing to accept that possibility yet. "I'll wait for you to catch up, Forsythe. Be it upon the Demacian throne or in the middle of the conflict in Kalamanda."

"Yes, sir." Forsythe said with a somber nod, as if his mind was somewhere else right now. He shook his blonde hair out slightly, running his hands through his tangled locks as he sank back in his bed, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Jarvan waited for the young soldier to respond with a confident 'I'll be right behind you,' but Forsythe's chest began to rise and fall slowly. Jarvan felt a mix of anger and disappointment in his chest. _Perhaps Exemplar Company is truly dead._ Jarvan groaned, as he sat back in the bed and exhaled slowly. "Before the doctor finds out I'm awake, perhaps you could bring me up to date on what's been happening in Valoran, Forsythe." He ran his hand through his hair, clearing it from his face again and then ran his hand over his face, brushing the bangs that had fallen back over his brow apart so he could see. "To think I was out for a whole week..."

The young man opened his eyes, glancing over at the prince, and then met his gaze for a few moments as if to say _'Not going to give up, are you?' _Forsythe glanced away and shrugged, sticking his legs out to lever himself into a sitting position, turning to face the prince. "The better part of six days to be more precise." Forsythe said, pointing out the window as the sun started to set. "There's been all sorts of news and events happening but the biggest one of all was the results of the Rematch for Ionia."

"How long was the occupation extended?" Jarvan asked with a frown, his brow furrowing. He remembered all of the excitement building up to the match, the city had been abuzz with rumor and hype.

Shyvana shook her head. "Ionia is free. The occupation has been lifted."

Jarvan raised his head and his mouth fell open. "Wait, Noxus was defeated?" He blinked a few times and then shook his head. "But how... how did that happen?"

"Nobody is really sure." Forsythe said with a darkening frown. "The Ionian Champions were strong and their strategy was played out perfectly. The Noxians barely stood a chance against Udyr's blitz upon the Noxian lines. He ran circles around them."

Jarvan shook his head. "But that can't be possible..." He clicked his jaw shut and his brow creased in thought. "The Noxians were favored in every way moving into the battle. Why would they give up such a strong position in Ionia?"

"You're asking the same questions as everyone else, Jarvan." Shyvana said with a frown. "The men in my unit have been talking about it since the battle ended." She frowned. "Though it is half the reason the city didn't go up in arms after what happened at the palace."

"You mean when we were attacked?"

Shyvana nodded. "The excitement surrounding the battle at the Institute of War allowed for an easy coverup."

"There are only a few people who know you're here outside of the Royal Guard, your family, and a select few hospital staff." Forsythe said evenly. "Anyone who does known has been sworn to secrecy and threatened with treason for even mentioning you. The timing on the rematch and the excitement surrounding it couldn't have been better."

"I suppose that is true." Jarvan said, running his hand along the thin beard that had formed on his chin. "But the question still remains... why?" He glanced to Shyvana and Forsythe beyond her. "Why was I attacked? Why all this cover up?"

Forsythe shrugged. "I've heard almost nothing other than what she's been willing to tell me, so I wouldn't be able to answer any questions." He gestured to Shyvana. "I've kept up with the news, but that's about all I'm good for right now." Jarvan looked to Shyvana but she blushed and shook her head.

"I apologize, Jarvan." She said, looking down at her lap, twiddling her thumbs. "I've tried to find out what happened on my own, but no one will answer my questions. Lieutenant Vorscham and Gunny Juniper have been quiet about it. The Lieutenant just pours on more training whenever I ask and June always dodges the question. She keeps changing the subject. I haven't been able to talk to Sergeant Delancey either. The Sergeant was taken for questioning by men in Demacian Uniforms but they didn't say much."

"What did they look like?" Forsythe said, raising an eyebrow.

"They wore dark blue and gray uniforms that were similar to regular fatigues." She said, frowning. "The patch on their shoulders showed a lightning bolt and a hammer, I think."

"Military police?" Forsythe suggested. "But what would they want with this 'Delancey' person? Surely the MPs couldn't have jurisdiction over the investigation of the attack at the palace. That's the Royal Guard's terrirtory."

"It was within the city walls." Jarvan pointed out with a shrug and a wince of pain as he attempted the motion. "Though they have been known to work with the DSB from time to time. That would certainly make more sense."

"Who is this Delancey anyways?" Forsythe said, frowning. "I've heard the name a few times, but never a face."

"Part of my staff." Jarvan said shrugging. "Assigned to keep tabs on me after I returned."

"What he means to say is 'bodyguard.'" Shyvana said, fitting Jarvan with a disapproving look.

"That too." Jarvan said sheepishly, grinning. "Bit of a weapons nut. You'd probably hit it off, Forsythe. Haven't seen anyone carry that many weapons other than you."

"I look forward to the meeting." Forsythe said, grinning.

"What of the attackers?" Jarvan said with a frown. "Everything is still kind of fuzzy."

"Don't worry." Shyvana said, shaking her head to discourage the frown he wore at his faulty memories. "There were three total in the room, and one more, the marksman, from what I remember. Del captured one and one was killed by the same marksman who shot you in the shoulder. The third got away."

"Got away?" Jarvan repeated. "You just don't disappear into the city like that."

"Well if they found him, they're not telling me." She frowned. "Delancey and Vorscham wounded him, though so I wouldn't have thought he couldn't have gotten far."

"One would think." Jarvan mused, a sour expression settling on his face. "And the marksman?"

"Same story." Shyvana said glumly. "No word, but I suspect he made a clean escape as well."

"Damn." Jarvan said, sighing. "And you don't know anything about the prisoner?"

Shyvana shook her head again. "I don't." She looked down at her lap as if she had let him down. "They refuse to answer any of my questions."

Silence filled the room as Jarvan realized his frustration with the lack of knowledge and answers was starting to force an edge to his voice. He had been out for almost a week, and Shyvana had been coming here every evening she could to spend time with him. He glanced at the bedside table that sat between his bed and Forsythe's. There was a pitcher with some water and several glasses, a clock, and not much else. As he looked around the sterile white room, he realized that Shyvana was by far the most vibrant thing in the room, her lustrous red hair gleaming in the setting sunlight that shone though the window. Jarvan felt a mix of giddy and sick as he thought about the fact that Shyvana had been worrying about him. It was both reassuring and painful to think about. He could feel the affection in his heart growing, but he also felt regret for putting her through it at the same time.

"Jarvan?" Shyvana stared up at him with large magenta eyes, flecks of gold shining and glimmering amid the soft glow of her big eyes. He felt a grin start to spread on his mouth as he reach out and took her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She blushed slightly but didn't look away, pulling his hand closer to her chest and enveloping it in both hands, pressing it against her collar bone and holding onto it, resting her cheek against it with a gentle smile. "I will say, I'm not really enjoying this habit of our reunions where you've got your arm in a sling." She grinned as a look of surprise settled on Jarvan's face.

"I had completely forgotten about that." He said, shaking his head as a cheeky grin slid onto his face. "I suppose this is twice that I could blame my arm getting injured on you."

"You jerk!" Shyvana said with a scowl that couldn't hide the smile on her lips.

"I do recall that being your exact reaction before." Jarvan said with a snort.

"Valoran to lovebirds." Forsythe chimed in, ruining the moment. "Don't get all mushy just yet." He snorted, pointing at Shyvana. "I really don't want to get bitched out by the doc when you make your injuries worse while fucking yonder princess."

Shyvana's face turned ruby red, her hair line indistinguishable as she backed away, dropping her head. She grabbed the blanket on her lap and balled it up, beaming Forsythe in the head and sending him tumbling off the edge of his bed, landing with a loud thump on the far side of the bed. Jarvan burst out laughing. He ended up slumped on his back, tears streaming down his face as Forsythe grumbled, picking himself up off the ground and slouching on the bed, with a dejected frown.

"I'd like it if you don't give me another head injury." Forsythe grumbled as Jarvan clutched his shoulder, hissing as the laughter subsided and pain set in. "You okay, cap?"

"Damn, that hurts." Jarvan muttered as he wiped his face free of tears and pushed himself up in bed. "I feel inclined to pop you in the jaw after that comment, but I don't think my shoulder would like that. It hurts like hell just to laugh."

"Serves you both right." Shyvana said, crossing her arms over her chest dejectedly. "You for the comment," She said, glaring at Forsythe, "And you for laughing." She said, wheeling on Jarvan and spitting him with an accusatory glare. "The discomfort of your companion is hardly a laughing matter."

"Yeah but his discomfort is damn funny." Jarvan said with a lopsided grin. Shyvana tried to retain her cross disposition, but with Jarvan's smile and his laughter still ringing in her ears, it wasn't long before it was replaced with a smile and a soft blush. Jarvan and Forsythe chuckled.

"I will say, it feels good to laugh about something." Forsythe said, pushing himself up onto the bed, his shaggy blonde hair in a mess that resembled a mop.

"Doesn't it?" Jarvan said with a grin. "Hows your head?"

"Fine." Forsythe said shrugging with a grin. "I may have broken a tile on the floor though."

Jarvan snorted and a grin spread back over his face. "That's on your bill, not mine. Things your hard head breaks is your fault."

"Oh bite me." Forsythe snarled, though it lacked the vehemence to make it sound threatening. The grin offset it as well, but Jarvan simply grinned victoriously as Forsythe rolled his eyes.

"I refuse to let him bite anyone else." Shyvana said, almost pouting. Both Jarvan and Forsythe had deadpan looks on their faces as they stared at her. She blinked a few times, glancing at them in turn, notice as color rose in Jarvan's face. "What..." She said slowly, thinking about what she had said. Her face turned a furious red again and she raised her hands in front of her, waving them wildly to try and ward off the stares. "NONONO!" She blurted out nervously. "Not like that! I just... I..." She dropped her gaze to her lap again as steam began to pour off the top of her head. "Sorry." She said with a small voice.

Jarvan wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her over, grinning and planted a kiss on the top of her head. "Don't worry." He chuckled. "Teasing just comes with the company." She blinked a few times and then nodded, a smile replacing the nervous frown. "Now, back to the point, I'll see what I can find out later." He paused then shrugged. "Has anything else happened?"

"There was an incident in Kalamanda." Forsythe said gravely, his brow darkening broodingly. Jarvan felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

"Is it war?" Jarvan said with a husky tone, the shift of the room's atmosphere was almost palpable.

"No, not yet at least." Forsythe said reverently. "There was a cave-in of one of the Loadstone Mining Consortium's shafts after an earthquake. Word on the street says twelve men are trapped deep underground." He paused, his brow furrowing in thought. "No one knows if they're dead or alive right now, but tensions are nearing a breaking point."

"Earthquakes?" Shyvana murmured. "I don't ever remember there being earthquakes in Kalamanda during my time there."

"That what's causing so much of the uproar." Forsythe growled with a curt nod. "There have been accusations flying everywhere in the paper, tabloids are spewing the usual rubbish, and a whole host of other issues have been raised, from Zaunite mining practices to claims of espionage."

"Who could want to start a war, though?" Jarvan muttered, fire in his tone.

"Anyone who wanted the mineral who didn't think they would get the contract, of course." Forsythe said, poking the air to make a point.

"But why?" Jarvan said with a frown. "It'd be years before anything could be mined if war were to erupt." The thought of war in Kalamanda brought a shiver to Jarvan's spine as images of his nightmare flashed through his mind.

"You've got me there." Forsythe shrugged and glowered, looking at the ground. "Someone could be playing the long game, but things have been hectic since the announcement yesterday." He glanced out the window, darkness settling over the city skyline. "I haven't heard any news from our forces though. They're probably swept up in the emergency and all, but I would hope that word would reach home soon. Kalamanda is a black hole as news goes. Nothing has come out since yesterday."

"My father will probably know more." Jarvan said firmly, throwing the sheets down the bed and then pushing himself up and around.

"Hold on now..." Forsythe said, getting up and starting to maneuver around the bed to stop him. "You still need your rest."

"Nonsense, I've been resting for six days." Jarvan growled, pain shooting through his body as he twisted his torso around to try and get his feet on the floor. Shyvana was now by Forsythe's side, trying to keep the prince from getting up.

"Jarvan, be careful..." She protested, but Jarvan tried to wave them both off.

"Just help me up." Jarvan said, frustration hurrying his voice. He yanked the IV from his arm and tossed the lead aside, letting an ambitious smile slide onto his face. "I feel fine!"

"I warned you..." Forsythe said ominously as Jarvan pushed himself up. He stood tall for a moment, but his legs wobbled and the room started to spin as Jarvan staggered forward. He blinked a few times to try and stop the room from spinning, but his knees wobbled and collapsed under him and he started to fall sideways.

"Jarvan!" Shyvana shouted as she grabbed his chest and tried to catch him before he hit the ground. Jarvan yelped in pain as she grabbed the wounded arm, releasing him in surprise and then watching as he hit the ground, though his fall was much lighter than it would have been. Shyvana dropped to the ground next to him and pulled his head onto her lap, looking down into his face. Jarvan looked dazed but uninjured, though tears welled in his eyes from his arm. "Jarvan, are you alright?"

"Ow..." Jarvan mumbled.

"Get the nurse!" Shyvana said urgently. Blood had begun to stain the bandages that wrapped his shoulder. Forsythe nodded, pushed himself to his feet and then moved to the door, pulling it open and then coming face to face with a Demacian officer. She looked surprised at the urgency on his face, but she blinked once and then her expression hardened.

"What's wrong?" She said, starting to push past him.

"Jarvan—the prince—the patient needs help!" Forsythe blurted out, stumbling over his words. "His injury is bleeding again." The woman, her blue forelocks swaying, glanced in and spied the prince on the floor next to the bed confirmed the reports and she nodded.

"Stay with him, I'll be right back!" She sprinted away to find a nurse. Forsythe turned back to where Shyvana was holding the prince, but the large red spot was starting to spread.

"We need to get pressure on the wound." Forsythe said, dropping down next to Jarvan.

"But what about..." Shyvana began to say but Forsythe shook his head, pulling off his jumper. He balled it up and then hesitated over the princes shoulder.

"You might want to grab his hand." Forsythe said grimly. He looked back to the prince, his face now pale and drenched with sweat. "Sorry, Jarvan... this is gonna hurt like hell." He pressed the balled up sweater onto the wound and Jarvan screamed in pain. His hand tried to jerk towards Forsythe to swat him aside, but Shyvana held onto his hand firmly as he struggled, his cries of pain enough to bring tears to her eyes. "Hold on, help is coming!" Forsythe did his best to reassure the prince, but his voice was hoarse as he tried to keep himself together.

"Jarvan!" Shyvana pleaded, still holding onto his hand, straining against the prince's thrashing. He tried to buck, but Shyvana was pressed firmly against his good shoulder, trying her best to keep him from hurting himself more. "Please, Jarvan! Stop! Your thrashing is only making it worse!"

"It's not helping!" Forsythe said, applying as much pressure to the wound as he could, still getting bounced about by the prince. He looked over his shoulder, desperation now marring his face. "Nurse!" He shouted. "NURSE!"

Two massive orderlies, each bigger than Jarvan, lumbered through the door, followed by a short doctor with a massive, bushy beard and a pair of nurses who looked almost as young as Shyvana. The doctor was nearly knocked over as he struggled to get a look at the wound, but when he saw the blood stained bandages and the small pool that was starting to form underneath the prince, his eyes went wide.

"Get out of ze vay!" He shouted. "Get him up on ze bed! Qvickly now!" The orderlies complied, brushing Forsythe aside and grabbing the prince and heaving him onto the bed in a single go. His hand was ripped from Shyvana's hand and it flailed rapidly, striking one of the nurses who was trying to help lower him onto the bed. She yelped and fell backwards, the orderlies muscling the prince down.

"Hold him down!" The doctor shouted, his wiry mustache now standing straight on end as he ducked another blow from Jarvan's arm. "I can't vork like zis!"

"We're trying..." The larger of the two orderlies grumbled, his bald head now gleaming with sweat from wrestling with the prince. "He's too strong."

"Bah!" The doctor snapped, glancing down at Forsythe. "You two, qvickly now, grab his head and legs and hold onto him!" Shyvana and Forsythe still sat on the ground with a mix of shock and terror playing across their faces. "Now, you fools! Hold him before he makes it vorse!" Shyvana slowly nodded, a dumbfounded look on her face as she pushed herself up, almost slipping in the pool of blood. She hauled herself up and then glanced around, slowly.

"You, girl, grab his head!" The doctor ordered. "Keep him from zrashing."

"All right..." Shyvana stammered, barely able to understand the doctor's accent, lowing herself over Jarvan's bed, her arms now covered in blood. She looked for somewhere to hold Jarvan, but she finally just had to settle with lacing her fingers together and holding his forehead against the pillow.

"And you, ze feet!" The doctor ordered, snapping at Forsythe. The corporal nodded lamely and pushed Jarvan's ankles against the bed firmly. "Good!" The doctor said, nodding his head once. "Shears." He held his now gloved hands out to a nurse and accepted a large pair of scissors. He slid them under the edge of the blood soaked bandages and then started clipping them away, folding them back to reveal a crimson splattered hole in Jarvan's chest the was profusely oozing blood.

"Dear gods..." Shyvana breathed, blinking rapidly.

"Now zis is something new..." The doctor said, swallowing and tugging his collar a bit looser. He blinked a few times, looking at the wound, shaking his head. "I've never seen anyzing like this before." He murmured, wonder and fascination filling his voice.

"Now's not the time, doc." Forsythe growled.

"Yes, yes." The doctor said, as if he was pestered by the man's hurrying him. He pondered the wound for a brief moment before he handed the scissors back to the nurse. "Forceps and gauze." He was provided with both. "Be prepared to hold him, zis may sting a bit. On zree. One... two..." He pushed half the gauze into the wound, sopping up as much blood as he could. He pulled the gauze free as Jarvan screamed in pain again. He discarded the first swatch of gauze and then pressed the second swatch deep into the wound again, continuing to sop up the blood. He pulled the gauze out, getting a look at the wound as it slowly started to fill with blood again.

"Shush now..." Shyvana cooed, tears now actively streaming down her face. "It's almost over, the pain will be gone soon..." She tried to comfort Jarvan, rubbing her cheek against his head, trying to keep herself from bawling. "Please Jarvan... shush."

"Now vhat is zat down in zere..." The doctor murmured. He paused, pressing his hand against the blackened skin. "How curious, he's as cold as ice. It's almost as if it's frostbite."

"What are you going to do about it?" Shyvana begged. "You have to do something!" She shouted over a scream as the doctor prodded Jarvan in the shoulder. "Not that you bastard!" She snarled. "Help him!"

"Shut your mouth, girl." The man snapped, pressing his glasses further up his face with the heel of his palm. "I'm doing my job; you just hold him vhere he is." Shyvana looked just about ready to punch him but the doctor had already dismissed her and turned back to the wound. "Gauze." He held his hand out and back, accepting several more cuts of gauze from the nurse. He poked and prodded the wound, sopping up the blood and then tossing the gauze onto Jarvan's chest. He took the forceps in his hand and then started peering into the wound. "Light." he demanded impatiently. "Hurry."

"Yes, sir." The other nurse produced a hextech spot lamp and held it on the wound.

"Good." The doctor murmured as he lowered his head closer to the wound and then started mumbling and humming to himself. "Now vhat is zis? Vhat do we have here?" He pushed the forceps into the wound and clamped them down. "On zree..."

"Fuck that!" Jarvan snarled. "I heard you last time..."

"Good point." The doctor said, nodding. He ripped the forceps out, pulling a thin sliver of black and blue crystalline looking material. The blackened skin started to pale and then it became pink rapidly. "How curious. I must have missed zis ze first time vhen I was cleaning ze vound." Jarvan fell silent, his breathing deepening. The doctor took a quick look at the prince and then looked back to the sliver, trapped in the forceps. "Vhat a curious piece of material..." He tapped his chest with a bloody hand, thinking as he glanced around. The nurse's mouth hung open as if she had intended to keep him from touching his chest, but she simply sighed, shook her head and turned back to the prince. "Zere is certainly no vay I missed something zis large..." he murmured, holding the sliver up to the light. It gave of a malignant blue smoke, its color darkening as he held it up. "Perhaps it grew? But zat's impossible... perhaps? No, no, no... to ze lab, yes. More tests to conduct." The doctor began to move the door, but Forsythe stepped in between the doctor and the doorway.

"Will he be alright, doc?" Forsythe growled, standing up straight, looking at his bloody hands and then letting them fall to his sides. He stared down his nose at the doctor, easily towering over the little man.

"I believe so." The doc said, nodding, annoyance in his voice as he continued looking at the sliver of transparent material. "It's almost as if it's a shard of ice..." He glance back at the towheaded barrier that stood in the door way.

"Is he going to be alright?" Shyvana said glancing down at the wounds as Jarvan fell still, and then back at the doctor.

"I believe so." The doctor repeated, sighing, meeting her gaze finally, pushing his glasses up his nose again. His eyes were distant and cold, but there was a sharpness to his gaze that was unnerving. His benign looks and habit of muttering had hidden the man's intensity before. "Ve vere confused vhy he vasn't getting any better despite the medicine and all ze bed rest." The doctor glanced back to his shard of ice and then back to Shyvana, his mustache quivering in annoyance. "Vhile unfortunate we missed zis sliver vhen ve removed ze main bolt, he should start rapidly healing, at a normal rate anyways." He glanced down at the wound and then shrugged. "Ve'll provide him with anti-inflammatory and medications for the infection, among other zings, and he should be better in several days time."

"Oh... alright." Shyvana murmured, looking around for something to wipe her arms free of Jarvan's blood.

"Come along now, ze nurse vill show you vhere you can get cleaned up." The doctor said, still holding the shard of ice in the forceps and bloody gloves as he walked towards the door. "Zis way."

Shyvana didn't stray from Jarvan's side, holding her hands slightly away from her body. "But what about..."

"Don't worry, miss." The taller of the two nurses said with a reassuring smile. "We'll take good care of your boyfriend."

Shyvana blushed. "But..."

"If you don't come along now, I shall have ze orderlies forcefully remove you." The doctor said, his voice even and lacking all menace. Shyvana glared at the doctor with fire in her eyes, but she removed to budge.

"He's in good hands." The second nurse said, bowing and gesturing to the door the doctor had disappeared through. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you to a ward where you can wash up and change. Please."

"Come on, Shyvana." Forsythe said, prompting her. Shyvana's defiant gaze faded slowly as she looked down at Jarvan, a mix of relief and regret pooling in her stomach. She slid off the bed, but kept a hand resting on Jarvan's shoulder. "Shyvana." Forsythe said gently, steering her towards the door. "Let's get cleaned up, we don't want to get in the way. That will only make things harder on Jarvan."

Shyvana paused in the doorway and glanced back at Jarvan as the nurse started to direct the orderlies, removing the last of bandages and then began to tightly wrap him with the bandages, the orderlies pushing him up and holding him steady, wiping up the blood away and then placed a large patch of gauze over it, holding it in place and then beginning to wrap it with a long bandage.

Forsythe gently pushed Shyvana forward, moving her out of the room. "Let's go, Shyvana."

She closed her eyes, nodded somberly once, and then let herself be guided out of the room.


	19. Chapter 18: Offices

_What does the Demacian Security Brigade want with me? _

Delancey shook her head. _First I spend the better part of a week getting interrogated by the DSB, then I finally get dismissed and I go to check on my commander and his wound has reopened. What a time to go and visit. Blood everywhere. _Delancey furrowed her brow, running over the past four day's proceedings in her mind as she walked briskly across the courtyard of the Demacian Palace. She had run directly into a blonde haired man who had been screaming bloody murder and had sent her sprinting through the hospital to find a nurse or a doctor. She had finally found one, a odd old doctor who was coming out of a patient's room when she had more or less grabbed the doctor and took him hostage until he had agreed to treat Jarvan. She had been promptly arrested and detained by Military Police officers who had been on duty at the front desk. From there she had complied and let herself be taken in and locked up by the Provost Marshal's office where she had spent the rest of the evening and all of the next morning. Once she had been released by the MPs, she had headed back to her quarters and showered and slept off the rest of the day. _If only that airheaded little medical puke had just listened then there wouldn't have been any issues._

Delancey snarled in disgust and shook her head, taking a deep breath and sighing as she forced herself to uncurl her fists, the frustration still keeping her stomach in a knot. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't see the gruff looking Demacian noncom officer marching across the quad towards her. He wore a grim and determined frown, glaring straight forward as other soldiers passed by, each saluting in turn.

"Sir!" The soldier a hand full of steps ahead of Delancey snapped off a salute as he marched past the noncom. Delancey felt ice settle in her stomach as she glanced at the noncom's chest. It was adorned with service medals and campaign ribbons, and a service star which denoted over twenty-five years of service. He had darkened skin from too much time spent in the field and the sun, and his dark eyebrows had horned curls at the crest points that gave him a fierce, angry look. He had dark, beady, brown eyes that sparkled with intelligence and danger, as if the slightest wrong movement would set him off like a firecracker. A sergeant major's rank bars shown on his arm, the golden thread glimmering brilliantly in the morning light. She felt her heart stop in her chest, the officer was only a handful of paces away. She snapped her arm into a firm salute, as best she could, as she marched smartly past.

"G-good morning, Sergeant Major!" She stammered as properly and proudly as she could.

The sergeant major's head didn't flinch, only his small dark eyes glancing over at her and fitting her with a piercing stare, barely an arms length away. "How do you know what kinda god damned day it is?"

The sergeant major's growl was fierce and angry, completely catching Delancey by surprise. Her eyes followed the sergeant major as he continued his straight line march across the quad, his armored boots clanking with every heavy footfall.

Delancey tripped and fell.

* * *

"You look like hell, Del." Lee grunted in greeting with a snort of laughter, raising his hand in salutations. "What in Valoran happened to you?"

Delancey stood in the doorway, her uniform splattered with dirt and damp from her short sojourn straight forward into the mud and snow. She clutched her uniform in one hand, her jacket draped over her shoulder. She had a glum look on her face as she turned towards him and glared daggers in his direction. "Bite me you lazy sack of shit." She hissed, moving towards her desk. "I don't want to hear it."

"Hey, it's not my fault you're clumsy." Lee said with a shrug and a chastising grin.

"Clumsy?" Delancey snapped viciously as she dropped her coat on the back of her chair. She posted her fists on her hips as her glare turned molten. "Maybe if you had actually been doing your fucking job instead of dicking your damned boyfriend, this whole thing wouldn't have happened!"

Lee's chair hit the deck as he leaped to his feet, anger darkening his brow. "Oh, so now it's my fault someone tried to assassinate a dignitary because I look some R-and-R?" He glared at Delancey as if he was daring her to repeat it. "That's bullshit and you know it!"

"Shut the fuck up before I shove my fist down your throat, Lee, I am REALLY not in the mood for your shit right now!" Delancey snapped, fury contorting her face.

"Sergeant Delancey, Sergeant Lee, perhaps now is not the best time to be-..." Valentine Isaacs stammered as she looked out from behind her desk. Her hand was poised over a sheet of parchement, the pen frozen mid stroke as she frowned worryingly.

"Stick to your paperwork, sweetie." Lee snarled, glaring at the young, brown haired, green eyed secretary.

"Bite your tongue, asshat." Delancey snarled at her fellow sergeant. "There's no reason to fuss at her like that. She didn't do anything." Lee threw his hands up into the air in exasperation and shook his head, picking his chair up as he glared at the young Isaacs for a moment before he spun on his heal and headed for the door. Delancey snorted as she bent down and opened the largest drawer on her desk and pulled out an extra uniform jacket. "And how the hell did you get a limp? You trip while taking it up the ass or something and sprain your ankle?"

"Har-dee-fucking-har-har, little miss daughter of a traitor thinks she's funny!" Lee snapped back. He froze, blinking a few times at his own remark and then frowned again, glaring at Delancey as if to challenge her into retorting.

"Go fuck yourself, cockbite." Delancey spat in disgust, slamming the drawer shut, rocking the whole desk back. She stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her so hard the entire office shook, dust falling from the ceiling and rattling the clock that hung upon the wall.

"God damnit." Lee muttered, running his hand over his short cropped hair, shaking his head in disgust. Silence filled the office as Lee sighed, looking down at the muddy jacket that hung on the back of her chair. _Maybe I should have cut her some slack... _

"Perhaps you should go apologize, sir." Valentine said after a few moments of uncomfortable silence had passed.

"What for?" The sergeant grumbled, scowling as he limped back to his desk, kicked the chair out, and slumped down, massaging his right leg. "It's not my fault she's in a piss-poor mood this morning." He kicked his boots up on the edge of the desk and sat back, grunting and groaning as he took the pressure off his leg.

"But sir, the prince, the Lieutenant Colonel will be arriving soon." She stammered nervously. "I don't think the commander will appreciate coming back to his staff fighting like this..." Her voice trailed off as the door cracked open and slammed shut again.

"Welcome back, Del." Lee barked, speaking aloud. "Now if you're finished with your bitching, I'm ready to ignore all that and let bygones be bygones. What do you say?"

"AHH-TENN-HUH!" The bellow was ear shattering, and Lee hit the deck as if a bomb had gone off in the building.

"What the..." Lee muttered as he scrambled to his feet.

"Fall in!" The Sergeant Major practically screamed, his deep voice a rumble that carried through the room like rolling thunder.

"But-..." Lee started to stammer, but the sergeant was rapidly losing his already sunny disposition. He was quickly becoming red-faced, his small beady eyes now bulging and glaring at the sergeant.

"FALL IN!" The sergeant Major bellowed again, a blood vessel now pumping on his forehead. Lee snapped to attention, popping a surprisingly crisp salute. The new officer rolled his eyes and sighed, continuing to glare at Lee. He glanced at Valentine and then frowned, looking back to "To think I was assigned to deal with this crap." Lee frowned as he looked down at the lanky noncom. His hair was a silvery-salt and pepper, shorn short, close to his skull. His skin was a dark tan and leathery in appearance, as if it had been stretched too tight over his frame. He had a frown that looked as if it had never left his face, his lower lip pressed upwards in a angry scowl.

Lee frowned. "Sergeant, I wasn't made aware-..."

The Sergeant Major's head tracked towards Lee like a turret. He took two steps forward, putting him within a matter of inches of Lee's chest. The Sergeant Major may have barely come up to Lee's shoulder, but the man gave off an intensity that dwarfed Lee.

"Excuse me." The Sergeant Major's drawl was gratingly tense. "I was informed that you, pretty boy, were a graduate of the Demacian Martial Academy, as well as serving a stint in the Arcane Academy." He paused, looking Lee up and down, his eyes hovering on Lee's hair, which was long and black, swept back over his head, close cropped up the sides. "However, I didn't fucking REALIZE they let blind recruits pass the damned physical, because last I _checked_, there were _six_ bars on my shoulder, not _three._" His glare was scathing, his voice grating and anger dripped from his tone like molten steel. "I earned those bars and you, as such, will address me as Sergeant _MAJOR_. Are we clear, _Sergeant?"_

"Fine." Lee grumbled, not bothering to keep his disgust from his voice.

"What was that?" The Sergeant Major growled menacingly. Lee glared back at the Sergeant Major, not even bothering to try and hide his growing hatred.

"Sir, yes, sir!" Lee barked sarcastically, his face a mask of anger.

"Now where is that other one, the blue one." The sergeant major growled, posting his fists on his hips as he glanced around.

"Sergeant Delancey is currently changing, sergeant major." Valentine said with a bit of a frown as she shuffled a stack of papers on her desk. "She should be back momentarily."

The sergeant major glanced to where Valentine was attending to her paperwork, digging papers from a drawer, and then grunted a response, a frown still plastered on his face. "Very well." He eased his hands to the small of his back, sliding one hand into the other, spreading his feet apart just more than shoulder length apart.

"Sir..." Lee started to say, a frown on his face. A single glance from the sergeant major snapped his mouth shut.

Minutes of silence followed until the door cracked open. Delancey stepped in and shut the door behind her, wearing a clean, freshly pressed uniform. She glanced around once and the locked eyes with the sergeant major. She blinked twice and then snapped to attention, saluting smartly.

"Sergeant Major." She barked. The sergeant major didn't say anything but nodded in response.

"Good." The sergeant major growled as he glanced back to Lee. He pulled a pocket watch from his jacket pocket and glanced at it and then looked to the clock on the wall. "The clock is a minute and thirty-two seconds fast." He growled as if the clock had threatened his life, but clicked his pocket watch shut and tucked it away in his jacket pocket. As if on cue, the door swung open and Jarvan stepped in, his arm still in a sling. "Officer on deck!" The sergeant major barked, snapping to attention and then saluting smartly.

Jarvan stepped into the room and the officer behind him closed the door, setting a satchel on the ground next to the door. The officer with brown hair that was shot with silver at the temples glanced around the room and then let a smile spread over his face. "Will there be anything else, Prince Jarvan?"

"No, thank you Councilor." Jarvan said, bowing his head. The councilor extended his hand and Jarvan looked surprised, but slid his hand into the councilor's and gave it a firm squeeze. "If you need anything, please let me know."

"Hah, that's my line." The man chuckled throatily, his bushy brown beard thoroughly laced with silver. He glanced around the room, surprise washing over his face as he saw the noncom who was standing at parade rest. "Sergeant Major. I wasn't made aware you have transferred to this unit."

"A pleasure as always, Councilor Spiritmight." The sergeant major growled as he bowed at the waist, a slim smile barely pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Takes you back doesn't it?"

"It does, indeed." The councilor nodded sagely. He turned and nodded at the prince and, smiling and then turned to the sergeant major. "I hope you'll look after my grandson." He set his hand on the prince's shoulder. "He tends to enjoy getting into trouble."

"Sir, I'll do what I can." The sergeant major growled, a cruel grin on his face showing that he was actually looking forward to trouble rather than planning on avoiding it.

"Good man." The councilor nodded once, keeping his eyes on the sergeant major a few more moments. He turned to the prince and slapped him on the right shoulder once, nodding. "Your highness."

"Councilor." Jarvan bowed his head. The councilor excused himself and the door closed behind him as Jarvan turned back to the office. "At ease, ladies and gentlemen." Delancey, Lee and the Sergeant Major dropped to parade rest. "As you may have noticed, we've been reassigned to these new offices within high-command as a part of my promotion and assignment to Councilor Crownguard's staff. While I still report to General Lorcan, we're more or less acting independently. We're going to get a few more staff over the next few days, but for now I would like to introduce the newest member." Jarvan gestured to the sergeant major. "This is Sergeant Major Argus Perrywinkle. He served under my grandfather, Councilor Spiritmight, in the Demacian Marines, and then did a short stint in the DSB with my father. From today on, he will be my direct subordinate. He reports to me, and only to me. Is that clear?"

"Sir." Delancey and Lee barked in unison.

"Now, Delancey, I'd like a moment." Jarvan said, gesturing to the door to his office at the end of the large room that served as the Prince's new headquarters. She nodded. "Good. The rest of you are dismissed."

"Hup." The Sergeant Major barked, saluting as Jarvan stepped away. Jarvan picked up his bag and tossed it over his good shoulder, heading to the back of the room, letting himself into the large office through the door behind Valentine's desk. He stopped in the doorway and turned back to face out into the office. "Valentine, anything important comes in, I want to hear about it, alright?"

"Of course, sir." She glanced at the desk and frowned. "I have some paperwork that need signatures, when you get the chance, sir. General Lorcan's office has been bugging me about it since we got reassigned."

"How much?" Jarvan said with a slight frown. Valentine held up a stack of papers as thick as Jarvan's forearm. His eyes bulged for a second before he closed them and groaned. "Ugh. I'll... I'll deal with it after this." He muttered, stepping half way into the office and tossing the bag on the floor and then running his good hand over his face. He stepped back to the door and then glanced down at the stack of papers on Valentine's desk, looking at it as if it were going to come alive and bite him. "Just... start a folder or something. As soon as I have some time, I'll get on it. Thanks, Val."

"Of course, sir." She said with a slight frown marring her face. She offered Jarvan a smile as he retreated, the prince gesturing for the sergeant to enter, Delancey following him into the office. Jarvan took a last look over the office and nodded to Valentine as he closed the door, and then sighed heavily, leaning against the door as he sunk slightly, closing his eyes.

"God, I hate paperwork." Jarvan groaned aloud, watching as a thin smile flickered on Delancey's face. He shook his head and pushed himself up, straightening his uniform jacket out before moving forward towards the desk.

"It comes with the territory sir." Delancey said almost teasingly. "Sucks to be the prince, right?"

"Tell me about it." Jarvan grumbled as he rolled his eyes. He gestured to one of the chairs that sat in front of the desk. "Would you like to have a seat?" Delancey nodded her head, sitting gingerly on the edge of the chair, glancing around the office. Large Demacian banners hung from either side of the room at the ceiling, draped down to where the book shelves started. Large windows lined the back wall, behind the desk, giving a beautiful view of the Demacian coast line as it wound away from the city towards the northeast, and the Freljord beyond. Ships bobbed on the ocean swells in the distance, merchant vessels cutting through the deep blue waters, their sails and rigging billowing in the wind. The landscape was frosted white and gray with frost and snow, and despite the bright sunshine that gleamed along the snow, there was a a crackling fire to keep the office warm. Jarvan glanced at a small cupboard on the far wall, next to the fireplace, a coffee table, a couch and several more chairs laid out tastefully around the room. "Perhaps a drink? I was told there was some good wine in the cabinet."

"No thank you, sir." Delancey said politely, shaking her head tersely. "Perhaps another time when I'm not on duty."

"Forgive me." Jarvan chuckled, glancing out the window briefly and then settling into his own seat, shifting slightly in the high backed office chair. He took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, staring at the desk as he did, finally looking up and meeting Delancey's gaze. "I just wanted to thank you for what happened a week and a half ago. I don't know if we would have survived if you hadn't been on the protection detail."

"Your praise is too kind, sir." Delancey said stiffly. "I had plenty of help." Jarvan's brown furrowed slightly, noticing the discomfort that had flooded her stance as she sat poised on the edge of the chair. Her shoulders were tense and he could see her eyes flickering around the office as if she were expecting something. She tried to hide the nerves by smiling at Jarvan, but the prince had already seen it.

"You seem uncomfortable, Del." Jarvan said, sitting back, exhaling slightly, massaging his shoulder. "Perhaps you have something to say about what happened? This is the first time I've had the chance to speak with you since. Feel free to speak your mind."

"Sir?" Delancey's eyes narrows slightly. Jarvan tried to shrug, but winced, shifting in his chair to try and relieve some of the pressure on the wound in his shoulder.

"You're uncomfortable." Jarvan said, gesturing to where she was sitting on the edge of the chair so rigidly. Jarvan's frown darkened slightly. "And not from a wound, I would think." He paused, letting his gaze linger on the sergeant as she shifted slightly, trying to make herself seem more relaxed. "You either think I know something, or you know something that I don't that you think I should. Spill it." She looked squeamish, frowning as she glared at the ground. Jarvan matched her frown and then leaned on his arm, glaring at her for a few minutes, but she only met his gaze briefly before glancing away again. Jarvan sighed, leaning back in his chair. "If it'd make you feel better I can threaten you with treason if you don't tell me." A thin-lipped smile settled on the prince's face. "I don't like secrets, Del. Especially when my people know things that I don't."

Delancey bit her lower lip hesitantly before she glanced at the fire for a few moments and then looked back to Jarvan with a determined frown knitting her brow. Jarvan paused, watching as anger filled her dark green eyes, swirling with jade fire. She glanced back over her shoulder and then produced the same small box that she had given Jarvan before. She pressed the top of the box and then waited till it glowed green before she sank down in the chair, exhaustion washing over her slender frame. She glanced up at Jarvan with pain now filling her eyes. "Sir, I hate to say, but I've been threatened with treason so many times in the last few days I can't even take it seriously anymore." Delancey sunk back in her chair and sighed heavily, running her hands over her face as her shoulders sunk. The prince hid his surprise with a frown as he watched the normally high pitched, happy-go-lucky officer suddenly take on the haggard look of someone being held prisoner. The look didn't fit her at all.

"Explain." Jarvan growled, leaning back and frowning as he leaned heavily on the arm of his chair. "If someone is threatening your life..."

"No sir, not directly at least." Delancey said with a glum look on her face. "At risk of treason, I would like to express that all of this is being revealed under duress." Jarvan frowned, watching her uneasily.

"Fine." Jarvan said with a nod, raising an eyebrow. "Continue, Del."

"Two things: first, just something I noticed this morning: Lee's limp." She frowned slightly. "The second is something one of the assailants told me."

"First the limp." Jarvan murmured, sitting up slightly. "What do you mean? I heard it was from a hiking accident or something like that."

"How exactly do you get the tendons sliced up in your ankle, in addition to several broken ribs, from a hiking accident?" Delancey mumbled crossly. "I hike plenty and I get injured all the time. Sir, those aren't normal injuries for a hiking accident."

"What are you implying, Del?" Jarvan sat up and leaned forward, a frown on his face.

The sergeant looked hesitant but but she met Jarvan's glare openly. "I put a blade in the heel of one of last week's infiltrators, and the fight with Lieutenant Vorscham could have easily broken a few ribs." She frowned again, glancing away. "It was the right heel, same as Lee. He's got the same limp too." Jarvan frowned slightly but Delancey shrugged slightly. "I don't remember everything, but I had this feeling about that infiltrator. He was familiar. It was as if I knew who it was."

Silence followed as Jarvan met Delancey's stare, glaring at the young woman with a mix of disbelief and anger in his face. Jarvan didn't like the idea that one of his men had been trying to kill him, but there was a certain amount of truth to what Delancey was saying. The wounds fit what he had heard had happened, but until he read actual reports, it was going to be difficult to actually figure out what had happened. He frowned, looking back towards the door, thinking about the other sergeant under his command. Lee had proved to be competent, but he was also somewhat distant compared to the others. While Delancey was outgoing and happy, seeking to be friends with everyone, Lee tended to keep to himself. While that wasn't ground for suspicion, it kept Jarvan wary. Lee's investigations into Valentine hadn't shown any sign of headway, but it had also been weeks since Jarvan had spoken with him about it. The prince glowered, running his hands over his face. _Why am I constantly mediating my men?_ Jarvan looked back to Delancey, the sergeant's blue highlights now looking out of place as she met Jarvan with a stony glare.

Jarvan sighed, shaking his head. "You know what you're saying, right? This isn't exactly a subtle accusation. This could be cataclysmic for us..." He glanced at the doorway and then closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, sighing. "My first day back, and I'm already dealing with this crap again."

"Sir, I'm aware of what the charge of treason carries." Delancey said huskily, now refusing to meet the prince's glare. She stared at her feet. "My father was executed for '_treason_'." Jarvan could here the grating tone of her voice, reading the mix of disgust and abhorrence on her face as she used the word. She look up and met Jarvan's stare brazenly. "I stand by my accusations though. I'm sure that Lee was one of those infiltrators."

Jarvan sunk back in his chair, watching the sergeant uneasily, minutes of silence passing. Jarvan finally nodded and then sat up. "I'll look into it. I don't want you to get into any more trouble, so let me deal with it."

"Yes sir." Delancey said, sitting back and letting out a sigh of relief. "Thank you." Jarvan nodded once.

Jarvan tapped a finger on his desk rhythmically, a frown on his face. "You spoke with the DSB, correct? I would assume you were interrogated and debriefed by either them or the Royal Guard, and I doubt the guard would take the time to deal with it with the possible security issues. Did they have anything to say about this?"

"Security Brigade handled it." Delancey shivered but nodded solemnly. "I didn't mention this though. They were more interested in the other prisoner. It was as if they were just trying not to think about the one that got away."

Jarvan paused, his finger poised above the desk, looking at Delancey and hesitating slightly before nodding. "That's... curious." Jarvan mused, resuming his rhythmic tapping of the desk. "Very well. I don't want you to say anything to him about it right now. I'll deal with it."

"Sir, do you think this is a good idea?" Delancey said with a worried glance at the door. "What if he tries to..."

"I said I'd deal with it." Jarvan growled, only letting a bit of menace fill his voice, mostly to let her know just how serious he was. Delancey wore a hesitant frown but she finally nodded. "Good. Now, what about the prisoner? From what I've gathered, what few reports I've read, there were three? The one who got away, the one who died and then the last one, the prisoner?"

Delancey nodded. "Yes sir. She wasn't very old, not trained, but nimble. I managed to take her down without injuring her, but she was distracted." Delancey frowned, glancing back towards the door again, as if she expected someone to come barging through. "She didn't seem to be apart of the group. Just a sense I was getting."

"Distracted in a fight where she could have easily died?" Jarvan said, raising his eyebrow. He snorted. "That's hardly professional."

"I don't think she was with the other two." Delancey murmured. "Hell, I don't think any of them were together honestly. They were disparate, uncoordinated, and from what I remember when I first made entry, they were surprised. It didn't look like a breach and entry attempt for an assassination."

"Then what?" Jarvan said, leaning back, tapping his pen against the arm of his chair in thought.

"All coincidence?" Delancey suggested, shrugging off Jarvan's accusing glare. "I'm just saying sir, it's not like they couldn't have just shot you to start it all off if it was an assassination."

"But the marksman was shooting at Shyvana." Jarvan pointed out. "Not me."

"Maybe he expected you to take the shot for her?" Delancey grinned.

"Yeah, yeah." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "I couldn't get my Lightshield up in time."

"Performance issues?" Delancey's eyes narrowed as she snickered.

"Now you can shut up." Jarvan rolled his eyes. He pushed himself to his feet with his good arm, pushing his chair aside, moving towards the large windows at the back of the office. "Any reason you have this supposed hunch about this woman?"

"I don't know if you would call her a woman." Delancey said, taping her chin thoughtfully. "Girl or young woman would probably fit better. She looked even younger than Shyvana." Delancey paused again, frowning. "There was one more thing." Jarvan turned back towards her, giving her a silhouette of his profile against the sunshine that glared through the window. He gestured for her to continue. "She knew your name." She preempted Jarvan's protest by raising a hand. "Before you say that it's nothing to go off of, honestly sir, during the battle the young infiltrator seemed more intent on helping us, rather than fighting the other infiltrators or aggressing onto us. She was calling shots, trying to help whenever she could. She wasn't trying to hurt me during our fight either, and honestly, the few attacks she did make were aimed at protecting others from the marksman. Other than the eagle coming to her defense and trying to maul me..."

"Wait, did you say 'eagle'?" Jarvan strode around the desk towards her, a menacing frown on his face. "Blue coloration, golden eyes and pale plumage on its chest?"

"Yeah, how did you know?" Delancey sunk back half a step, her brow furrowing slightly. "It was a Demacian Eagle. First I've ever seen, but I recognized it. My father was a bird watcher, he talked about trying to find one continuously." Jarvan glanced back at his desk, and then stepped past her, looking at one of the shelves on the wall.

"This young woman." Jarvan murmured. "Did she had long black hair, golden eyes?"

"Short black hair, but yeah, golden eyes." Delancey said, nodding. "Sir, are you telling me you know who this young woman was?"

"I have a sinking suspicion I do." Jarvan groaned, shaking his head and sighing heavily. He hung his head for a moment and then stepped up to a coat rack, grabbing a long overcoat with his good arm and throwing it over his shoulders, not bothering to use the sleeves or even button it up. "Come on, we're going to go find out."

"Sir?" Delancey stood up and moved towards him, extending a hand as Jarvan moved to the door. "But what about..."

"What, Del, you want me to leave her to the Security Brigade?" Jarvan said, his hand on the doorknob. "I don't plan on leaving any of my men out to dry, and it's been what, a week and a half now?" He shook his head. "I know what they do to supposed security threats. It's been too long already."

"But she's just a kid." Delancey said, crossing her arms uncomfortably over her chest, shifting from foot to foot. "She's not exactly one of your soldiers, sir." Jarvan met her glare, anger flaring in his eyes. Delancey felt a shill run up and down his spine. Delancey snapped to attention. "Sir, I retract my statement, sir!"

"Good." Jarvan growled. "Now follow me or stay, take your pick. Someone has to watch the office."

"Sir, I'll follow." Delancey said, saluting.

"Good." Jarvan nodded and then opened the door marching into the outer office. Lee was at his desk, scribbling away with a quill. He paused, looking up as Jarvan glanced at him, meeting his gaze for a brief moment before Jarvan glanced away. Valentine was sorting through a stack of papers, setting yet another packet of paper on top of the stack that sat in the basket that she had pointed out to Jarvan that need to be signed. Jarvan suppressed the urge to sigh and roll his eyes. "Sergeant Major."

"Sir!" Sergeant Major Perrywinkle snapped to attention and saluted smartly. Jarvan glanced at the floor, noting with satisfaction that there were slight indentations in the carpet where he had been standing since Jarvan had stepped into the office. Jarvan returned the salute, waiting until Perrywinkle had dropped his salute and settled back into a parade rest stance.

Jarvan glanced up and down the noncom's uniform, hesitating as he looked over his chest full of medals. Decorated with ribbon upon campaign ribbon, medals that clanked with every step, and two Casualty Ribbons. _Commendation for outstanding circumstances while incapacitated. _Jarvan's eyes flickered up to where a large scar slid up along his neck, the tip of the scar showing from underneath the collar of his uniform jacket. _That's one of the Casualty Ribbons._ Jarvan cleared his throat and glanced back over the office. _A bit of presence won't hurt when dealing with the DSB._

"Fall in, Sergeant Major." Jarvan growled. "We're going hunting."

"What or who are we hunting, boss?" The Sergeant major said with a thin grin. Jarvan watched the smile grow on his face, and he felt a shiver run down his back. _It's like watching a snake smile. _

"Security Brigade. Wanna join us?" Jarvan nodded his head at Delancey and then jerked his thumb towards the door.

"I always hated dealing with those assholes." The Sergeant grumbled, his smile fading slightly. "Lead the way."


	20. Chapter 19: Lorcan

"The general will be back momentarily." The young, blonde secretary said, bowing in Jarvan's direction. "If you'd like to wait, he won't be long." Jarvan eyed the secretary up as she bowed, surprised at the sheer amount of cleavage she was showing off as she stood up. Jarvan looked away nervously, rolling his eyes. _I had heard Lorcan was once a ladies man, but if he's content to simply ogle his secretary... _Jarvan shook his head and then met her stare, refusing to be distracted by her rather curvacious nature. _What kind of officer is he? _

"Thanks." Jarvan nodded to her, noting how she blushed as she looked up at him. Jarvan turned away and stepped deeper into the office of General Lorcan, glancing around at the various different paintings that hung upon the wall of the long, narrow room, noting that what pictured didn't contain nude, though elegant, depictions of women. _Despite his choices in art, he is Councilor Crownguard's subordinate and my commanding officer._ Jarvan sighed and shook his head slightly, turning his attention to how many of the various landscapes depicted within the frames came from all over Valoran. He recognized scenes of Demacian coastlines and Noxian wetlands, Ionian rice paddies and even what looked like the jungles of Kumungu. Jarvan strode slowly along the wall, his eyes glancing across the pictures, though he paused in front of one painting in particular, his brow furrowing as he struggled to remember where he had seen the picture before.

A sea of brilliant blue was crested by white lines of surf, two sleek ships-of-the-line in a rolling gun battle, crashing over the storm wracked waves as they traded gunfire and concentrated bursts of magical energy. A violent rainbow of reds, oranges and blues colored the sky a garish shade of red, as blood poured down the decks of the ships, waves crashing against their sides, like two great beasts of burden crashing into each other with every stride as they trundled next to each other. The wave of realization crashed over him, nearly staggering him. _Katarina had this exactly picture on the wall of her mansion..._ Jarvan shook his head, looking down towards the corner of the picture, but frowned. _No signature, damn._

"Beautiful, no?" General Lorcan mused as he stepped up next to Jarvan, interrupting the prince's thoughts. Jarvan started momentarily but quickly turned back to the painting, as the general's gaze ran over the painting with a satisfied smile on his face. "Twas given to me by a close friend many years ago." He brushed his fingers over the edge of the frame, his smile fading wistfully. "A real shame that he didn't continue painting for long, he only produced several of this painting before he moved on to... other pursuits." He sighed and then turned to face the prince. "Regardless of my taste in art and friends, it is good to see you out of the hospital, your highness. Now, what can I do for you?"

"Thank you, sir." Jarvan said, accepting the general extended hand and shaking it. He turned back to the painting and took in the outline of the naval ships, trying to sort out his thoughts as he processed them. "I was wondering if you could tell me anything about the artist. I really admire this painting."

The general scratched at his beard for a moment, frowning slightly. "Well, he doesn't paint anymore." The general shrugged but turned to face Jarvan fully. "He found he could better express himself through a, ah, different medium." The general waved him to follow, moving towards a different section of the room. He gestured to a sword that hung upon the wall, tucked away in its sheath. "He did a stint in the navy where he learned metal smithing as a trade, going on to work as a ship's blacksmith and armorer. He now makes special swords and weapons for those who can afford them from his little shop, just outside the city."

"I see." Jarvan mused, examining the sword. The metal working was ornate but familiar. _It's similar to the daggers that were used in the assassination attempt in Noxus. _Jarvan turned to the general. "May I?"

The general looked hesitant for a moment, eying Jarvan's arm, but he nodded, pulling the sword down and holding it by its sheath for Jarvan to draw. "What's the point of containing such a thing of beauty." The general chuckled. "Just be careful, it's a one of a kind sword.

"Of course." Jarvan said, sliding his hand around the hilt and letting his grasp settle. The blade was cold to the touch, even through the leather wrappings. Jarvan pulled the sword free of its sheath, the blade ringing proudly as it came. Jarvan held the blade up to the light and marveled at the rainbow of blues, greens, grays and other faint ribbons of color that decorated the thin sword. It had a faint curve to it, and Jarvan noted that it was only sharpened on the outside of the curve. "It's curious, it reminds me of Ionian craftsmanship, yet..."

"But it has the weight and guard of Demacian steel, yes?" The general chuckled as he nodded with the prince. "Constantin was experimenting with some ideas for new weapons, but it's much harder to craft these blades compared to more traditional Demacian weapons." The general gestured to the thin blade that glimmered brilliantly even in the dim light. "It was deemed too expensive and too difficult to produce, despite its amazing sharpness and light weight."

"A shame." Jarvan echoed, as he turned and swung the blade in a gentle arc. "It's a beautiful thing." _And exactly like the blades that were used to try and assassinate me in Noxus._ Jarvan smiled, gently returning the blade to its sheath and watching reluctantly as the general returned the blade to its cradle on the wall. "Perhaps he would make another?" _Or at least he can answer for why he struck two daggers in exactly the same way. _

"I do not know, to be perfectly honest." The general said with a faint smile. "You can try inquiring though. He goes by the name of Constantin Steelsword now. " The general's smile widened just a bit as he glanced back to the blade. "Fitting, no?"

Jarvan matched his smile and nodded politely. "Indeed. I shall find him and see if he can make me a sword, or even a lance of such beautiful craftsmanship."

"Good luck." The general said, cackling wildly. "He doesn't do much anymore." The general wore a smile for a few moments as he wandered aimlessly about his office, looking at paintings, letting Jarvan follow in his wake. "But I suppose asking about swords isn't the real reason you're here today, young prince." The general smiled slyly at Jarvan. "I may be old, but I'm not stupid." He chuckled softly. "Perhaps you could tell me what it really is you want from this aging man?"

Jarvan nodded and smiled, acknowledging the fact that he wasn't trying to take the general for a fool. Jarvan cleared his throat, meeting the general's gaze earnestly. "I was wondering if you had any contacts within the Demacian Security Brigade."

"The Security Brigade?" The general arched an eyebrow, turning and watching Jarvan silently for a few moments, but eventually he slowly nodded. "I have a few, yes, as well as some acquaintances, but what ever could you need them for?"

Jarvan kept the frown from forming on his face, instead, he stood up straighter and smoothed the hair on top of his head slightly to hide his nerves. "I have reason to think that their prisoner, the one they captured after the recent assassination attempt, may have actually been a compatriot of mine."

The old officer blinked a few times, surprise playing out over his face. He removed his glasses and made a show of inspecting the lenses and then he produced a small cloth and then rubbed them over the glasses before returning them to his face, pushing them up the bridge of his nose. "So, what you're telling me is that you _knew_ one of the spies who tried to kill you? That is not a good position to be in, my prince." He gestured towards his office, and turned on his heel, slowly strolling towards the end of the hallway and the doorway yonder.

"That's just it." Jarvan said, matching the pace of the older officer, measuring his longer strides. "After speaking with my subordinates about the incident, I have reason to believe that the young woman who was taken prisoner was opposing the others, rather than assisting them."

"Interesting." The old man mused, slowing his paces slightly. Jarvan again matched the older officer's walking speed, noting the look of amusement that slid onto his face as he increased and decreased his pace randomly. Jarvan paid the man rapt attention despite the game he was being subject to, the deference he showed hopefully doing enough to show his respect. The smile that brightened on the general's face showed his approval, confirming it with a nod. "I'd be willing to try and speak with some of my contacts to give you access to the prisoner, but I hope you understand that you'll need to convince me of why I should try first."

"Of course." Jarvan said nodding, taking a deep breath. "Most of my reasoning comes from one of my subordinates, Sergeant Delancey." Jarvan turned and gestured towards the doorway at the far end of the hall where Delancey and the sergeant major were standing at parade rest along either side of the main doorway to the reception area of the general's offices. "She was among the forces who were posted as sentinels when I had Colonel Dillich increase the defensive presence of the Palace Guard a week and a half ago."

"Pardon my interruption, but I had a question regarding that." The general said with a frown. "How did you know to increase the guard?" An ironic smile slid onto his face, as he glanced at Jarvan's wounded shoulder. "Not that it seemed to do much."

Jarvan wore a thin smile and nodded once. "It was a hunch that turned out to be correct. I came to believe I was being followed, starting during the day when I was spending time with my... _consort._ I noticed it at the very end of the evening, not long before returning to the palace. I wasn't able to identify either of the persons tailing us, unfortunately."

"Indeed, unfortunate." The general mused with a soft chuckle, tugging on his wispy white goatee. "Very well, please continue."

"Of course." Jarvan said, following along beside the general as he wandered along the hallway, his gait sometimes picking up as he moved from picture to picture. He would look at a picture whenever Jarvan started to speak, as if he was concentrating on something he could not see. "After I had been released from my stint in the hospital, I was conversing with my staff about the incident, trying to familiarize myself with the proceedings due to my foggy memory. The description that was given to me by my sergeant was heavily reminiscent of a young woman who was accompanying me on the last leg of my journey."

"The dragon girl?" General Lorcan paused before a large painting of Targon Mountain, the sun setting along the crest with a peach colored sky beyond, the white capped mountain gleaming majestically.

"Not Shyvana, sir." Jarvan said shaking his head tersely. "The other, a young tracker named Quinn."

"I see." Lorcan nodded slightly. "I read your reports regarding that matter. Grizzly business, dragons. Though, what makes you think that it is the young woman you speak of and not just a spy who is trying to impersonate her?"

"Several things." Jarvan said confidently. "The first is the coloration of her eyes. Gold isn't exactly a common color." The general glanced at the prince, but slowly nodding. "The second is what she was saying—shouting during the fight. According to Sergeant Delancey, she was trying to protect the Demacian forces rather than cause us harm or protecting the other combatants. Several times she knocked Delancey and Lieutenant Vorscham out of the way of the marksman, and she even tried to prevent me from getting hit as well."

"That could have all been a ploy." The general suggested, though Jarvan could tell by the curious tone of his voice, that he was merely voicing concerns that would be asked eventually.

"Perhaps, but unlikely." Jarvan said with a shrug. "The reason I say so was the last thing that convinced me of why she is the same young woman."

"And that would be?" Lorcan prompted expectantly.

"She was accompanied by a Demacian Eagle." Jarvan said firmly, watching as the general gave him a disbelieving glance. Jarvan nodded affirmatively. "Rare and quite distinctive, I don't believe its something that Delancey would be able to confuse. She stated that her father was a birdwatcher; she was quite adamant about what she had seen." A smile slowly spread over the general's face as he tapped his chin with a spindly index finger.

"Yes, I heard the DSB had sought treatment for a Demacian Eagle from one of the veterinarians within the city, though I wasn't convinced that it was true." Lorcan mused. "And this bird is the young woman's companion?"

"Yes sir." Jarvan said nodding. "Together they formed a formidable ranger team that helped us track down the dragon we were hunting. She was immensely helpful and I haven't been able to pay her back. I believe that she has been wrongly imprisoned and I would like to try and alleviate this problem."

"Very well." Lorcan said, nodding his head with a smile. "I'll write you a letter of introduction to one of my friends within the DSB. I don't know if it'll help you much, but it might get you a chance to confirm your friend's identity if nothing else. You should be careful though, the DSB operates under its own rules: many of which you do not know."

Jarvan paused, frowning for a moment. "Then please, tell me what I do not know."

The old man craned his neck and let out a deep laugh, the sound echoing through the hallway and drawing the attention of officers and other soldiers as they went about the business in the side offices that branched off of the hallway. The general reached up and clapped Jarvan on his good shoulder. "Prince Jarvan, my boy, I don't think there is ever going to be enough time for the likes of that." The old man wiped a tear from his eye with handkerchief; he had obviously found the joke hilarious. Jarvan smiled politely at the rather inflammatory statement, deciding to take it as a well meaning jest rather than the thinly veiled insult it could have been. "Forgive me, I've heard the stories from your grandfather and his daughter, your mother, many times. They are fond of stories of when you were young and impetuous. You thought you knew everything from the moment you could walk."

"To the moment I had my legs cut out from under me." Jarvan said somberly, clenching his fists. "It took two years and the deaths of many close friends to realize my stupidity."

"Then you have already learned more than I could teach you." General Lorcan said, smiling, turning towards the prince and nodding sagely. "You were strong before, and now you are wise as well. A fine young officer."

"Sir." Jarvan nodded stiffly, but Lorcan paid him no heed, refusing to acknowledge the reservations Jarvan had about the general's opinion of him.

"Now all you need to do is find yourself a strong young wife and you'll be fit to be king!" The general cackled maniacally as he moved towards another picture. Jarvan lengthened his stride to catch up, but as he finally closed the gap, the general turned and looked up at him with deadly serious eyes. His glasses shimmered menacing in the lantern light, a thin smile forming on his lips. "Though I suppose you've found yourself a strong woman already." He mused, his smile growing wider and seemingly more vicious. "Part dragon, part human, vicious and utterly dedicated. She adores you and she is willing to undergo the racism, anger, and frustrations your father has deemed it necessary to put her through. I am jealous of you, lad, not many men have found partners such as yourself."

"You disprove of my choice?" Jarvan growled, standing up slightly straighter as the older gentleman underwent a transformation. By merely lowering the volume of his voice, tilting his head forward slightly and narrowing his eyes, the general had transformed from a thoughtful and energetic, aging officer to the very definition of cunning and strategy. His expression had dropped from warm and inviting to ice-cold and menacing, his smile alone enough to send a shiver down Jarvan's spine.

"Quite the contrary." Lorcan purred, his smile growing beneath his mustache, the white goatee rising with his smile. "I've done my research: I think her to be perfect. Beauty, power, grace and poise, she is both capable of and willing to remain at your side." His grin turned to Jarvan, meeting the prince's stony facade with amusement glinting in his eyes. "As quick as she learns, I'll bet it was a real surprise when she turned out to be fucking smart, too." Jarvan's mouth fell open as the general paced away with a maniacal cackle as he read the blushed look of shock on Jarvan's face, the prince nodding his head as he laughed. Lorcan turned and slowly began walking down the hallway, an entertained grin riding on his lips as he nodded to himself. "She has a certain sense of nobility to her, and though she is unrefined, the strength she possesses has yet to be truly tapped. I suspect that with training and some guidance, she can truly become a fearsome power within Demacia, both politically and martially. I fear for those who seek to do you harm, lad, lest they anger the slumbering beast with in her heart. I see great promise for when she is finally given her position. I think she will find it both rewarding and challenging." Silence filled the hallway as Jarvan walked beside the officer, clearly mulling over the elder's words. Jarvan set his jaw as he looked over at the general.

"Should I be worried that my commanding officer has expressed that my love will find her time serving the Demacian Military _challenging_?" Jarvan said, trying to match the man's cunning.

The general nodded and chuckled. "You should, lad. You should." Jarvan felt a shiver run down his spine. The general continued to chuckle to himself as he brushed his hands down his uniform tunic, smoothing the fabric. He paused and picked a piece of non-existent lint from his shoulder and cast it away before turning back to Jarvan with a warm smile. "But back to the matter at hand! Your friend is being detained by the DSB. Let's see if my writing skill have not degraded so much that I cannot help with that."

Jarvan took a moment to compose himself and tugged on his jacket, smoothing it over his chest as he adjusted where the sling hung. "Thank you, sir." Jarvan said, bowing in thanks. "If there is anything I could do..."

"Think nothing of it." Lorcan said, patting the prince on the shoulder. "I may need to call upon you in the future. Besides, you probably know just how valuable the loyalty of your subordinates can be. It's a small price to pay to gain your support." The general cackled as he turned and headed towards his office. "Now if you'll just give me a few minutes, I'll get you that letter."

"Of course, sir." Jarvan said, stopped just outside the door to the general's office, glancing at the massive Guardsmen who stood on either side of the doorway. Lorcan hobbled through the door and Jarvan exhaled, breathing a sigh of relief as he watched the man go. Delancey and the sergeant major approached and stood by, both of them at parade rest again, falling in close enough to protect him, but not so close as to intrude on his personal space. "Well that takes care of one problem." Jarvan muttered to no one in particular.

"Typical bureaucrats." The sergeant major mumbled under his breath, though Jarvan had a sneaking suspicion that he had purposefully said it just loud enough to be heard.

"Something to say, Sergeant Major?" Jarvan said, turning back towards him with a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. _My grandfather did warn that he was opinionated..._ His grin grew slightly. _He didn't mention how entertaining it was._

"Nothing sir, just admiring the flowers and the bullshi-..." The sergeant major coughed, covering his mouth with a fist as the clicking of boots of stone signaled the return of the general.

"Here you go, young man." General Lorcan produced a parchment envelope, a stamped wax emblem with the general's crest sealing the heavy paper document. "I don't know if it will do you any good, but I should hope it might smooth things over for you."

"Thank you, sir." Jarvan said as graciously as possible. "And if anything need arise..."

"I shall let you know when it does." The old man said with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. "Now, I have some paperwork I must attend to, and to you and your friends, good luck."

"Sir." Jarvan bowed as the officer turned and retreated back to his office, letting the door creak shut behind him. "You were saying, Sergeant Major?" Jarvan said with a grin.

"I stand by my statement sir." The noncom growled.

Jarvan shrugged as he headed for the main doorway, back through the hallway of art. "He's the first officer who hasn't had an issue with Shyvana. I'm not complaining."


	21. Chapter 20: Emergency

Shyvana sneezed, shuddering and rubbing her nose, blinking a few times as she turned back towards the ragtag column of troops that trickled back towards Demacia Proper. She balanced the lance on her shoulder, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure she hadn't hit anyone in the process.

"Gesundheit." Alicia said as she approached from behind at a jog. Shyvana turned her torso slightly, the lance swinging out. Alicia ducked it with a bit of surprise on her face but she shook it off and slid into step with the dragoness. "Careful there, you could take someone's head off with that thing."

"Sorry." Shyvana muttered. "It's been a while since I handled a lance this large." She glanced at the ground and then back up at the gunnery sergeant. Alicia snickered, grinning as she looked over at Shyvana with a smile. She frowned slightly as she watched the dragoness for a few moments, noting how distracted she looked.

"You alright, Shyvana?" Alicia said stepping up next to the dragoness, watching warily as the lance swung back into position on her shoulder. "Perhaps something, or someone weighing on your mind?" Alicia added a knowing grin to emphasize her point, but Shyvana shook her head.

"No, I'm not worried about Jarvan right now, just..." Shyvana voice faded and she frowned slightly, sneezing again and then wiping her nose, frustration hurrying her actions. "I just suddenly had to sneeze and I surprised myself."

"Allergies perhaps?" Alicia suggested. F_or the past week I've been busy with preparations for the day's combat exercises. _Alicia smiled sadly, sighing in resignation and shaking her head affectionately. _With me so busy and Jarvan in the hospital, I bet she's just lonely._ The dragoness shrugged as she shifted the heavy lance on her shoulder, trying to get it to sit a bit more solidly on the shoulder plate of her standard issue Demacian armor.

"I don't think so." Shyvana said, shaking her head, shriveling her nose up again as she frowned, sniffing a few times as if she expected another sneeze. "At least I don't think so, I've never had them before."

"Odd." Alicia mused, tapping her chin. She watched Shyvana for a few moments, her smile growing playful as she giggled and then turned back to the road. "How has Jarvan been doing?" Shyvana shot her a quizzical look to show that she didn't know what Alicia was speaking about, but the gunny's smile turned pixie-like as she watched Shyvana blush slightly. "Don't think that I didn't know that you were going and visiting him every afternoon."

Shyvana blushed slightly as she looked at her feet, clearly embarrassed. "That's not wrong, is it?" She turned and frowned at the gunny, a sad look on her face. "Jarvan didn't get any visitors while he was hospitalized. He mother came in the first day, but his father, his commander..." She shook her head, anger sliding into her expression, eclipsing the sadness. "I thought Jarvan was some sort of famous, popular prince. Is that not correct?"

Alicia sighed, her smile fading as she looked up to the sky. "Yes and no. He's definitely popular; he's known as the 'Exemplar of Demacia' for a reason, but, over the past few years that has degraded slightly." She paused, frowning as she took a deep breath. "Jarvan left abruptly two and a half years ago, right after the majority of his unit was killed off at the hands of Swain."

"He's told me about it a little." Shyvana murmured, her brow creasing in thought. "He really doesn't like to talk about it much."

"I'm not surprised." Alicia said, her face hardening as she looked off towards the horizon. "Jarvan came back a broken man, and everyone could see it. Garen Crownguard was celebrated as a hero, and the state tried to spin the story in a good light, but it's hard to try and hide the fact that one hundred and thirty men are never coming home in a supposed time of peace." Shyvana didn't have to look over to hear the sneer in Alicia's voice. "But they managed to hide it well enough. Garen was cheered on as a hero, and the remains of the 'Butcher of Noxus' were paraded about like they were made of solid gold. Even that trophy didn't stop the one-hundred and thirty families from asking what happened to their sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters that Demacia seemed to completely ignore. They blamed the prince for their losses, and he fell into a depression for a short while."

"And that was when he parted ways with Demacia, right?"

"Yep." Alicia said, nodding her head somberly. "That was the last that most people heard of him until recently when you and the other soldier under his command returned. Even now, Jarvan is under all kinds of pressure and he's struggling to deal right now."

"Do you think that there is anything I could do to help him?" Shyvana said nervously, looking up to the gunny. Alicia looked surprised, but a smile spread over her face and she giggled.

"You're really in love with him, aren't you?" Alicia said, watching as Shyvana blushed nervously again, though there was a timid smile on her face. She nodded her head and Alicia giggled again as Shyvana seemed to glow happily, steam rising off the top of her head in the cool afternoon air. "Well, I'm sure if you just keep doing what you're doing, everything will be fine. You did just fine during today's defense drills, so I don't think you'll be stuck here with us too much longer. As soon as you're judged ready, I expect you'll be headed to Jarvan's side as his bodyguard." Alicia smiled happily as she glanced at Shyvana who was now beaming, giggling happily to herself. Alicia found it hard not to grin, the dragoness's glee and smile was infectious. _Usually it's the other way around. _"I've got some great news, though."

The smile started to broaden over Shyvana's face as she looked to the gunny expectantly. "What is it?"

"I heard Jarvan was finally released from the hospital this morning." Alicia said, grinning as the smile blossoming on Shyvana's face nearly exploded.

"Yay!" Shyvana shouted, bouncing about, spinning in a circle happily, the lance whipping about, bouncing on her shoulder like it was nothing. Shyvana's face was blushed a happy pink, and she was humming to herself as she danced about.

"Easy, Shy!" Alicia said, giggling at the dragoness' excited outburst of glee. She ducked down as the lance whirled overhead. "You're going to kill someone with that lance of yours..."

"Sorry..." Shyvana said, now strutting happily, wearing a broad smile. "I'm just excited."

"I can see that." Alicia mused, chuckling. "We'll go visit him as soon as we're released from duty tonight, alright?" Shyvana barely heard her, nodding excitedly, her mind already off thinking about her prince. Alicia grinned and rolled her eyes. _Ahh, young love. _

As they approached the outermost wall that surrounded Demacia Proper, the other guardsmen trainees, soldiers and officers were congregating on the road, milling about with a mix of confusion and the buzz of excitement filling the air. Alicia gestured for Shyvana to follow her as the gunny pushed through the other guardsmen, heading for the front of the column where most of the lieutenants and the other officers had been riding on horses. As the two women emerged, the massive golden monument of the Eastern Victory Gates towered above them. Despite being so far away, the massive crossed swords that formed the Victory Gates gleamed even in the overcast day's fading light. A klaxon moaned in the distance, coming from the direction of the gates. A thin plume of smoke crept up towards the heavens, disappearing into the overcast gray sky not far above the crest at the top of the gates. A horse trotted towards them, Vorscham steering the animal about, frustration gritting his teeth as he struggled to control the beast of burden. The dark haired creature finally slowed to a fussy halt, snorting and shaking its head as Alicia and Shyvana approached.

"Lieutenant, what's going on?" Alicia asked as she stepped up next to Vorscham's horse. She stroked the beast's mane gently, the horse snorting and continuing to shake its head as it stamped at the ground impatiently.

"Something has the horses spooked." Shyvana noted, easing the lance off of her shoulder and looking over the other officer's mounts where they had gathered. All of the horses were tossing their heads to and fro, tugging at their rider's reigns as they stamped at the ground, moving about nervously. "LT?" He shrugged as he turned his horse around.

"The gate security detachment is moving people off the road right now." Vorscham muttered with a frown. "Whoa boy, whoa." He cooed, trying to calm his horse down as it threatened to buck and bounce. The horse settled slightly, but its ears still twitched nervously. "I've only overheard a little bit of what the Major has been bitching about ever since the column stopped." Vorscham cast a forlorn glance over his shoulder and then frowned, looking back down to Alicia and Shyvana. "I'm not quite sure about what's going on, but it doesn't look good."

"Vorscham, you're up!" Vorscham rolled his eyes as the major summoned him, waving his farewell as he turned his horse about, snapping the reins and trotting towards where the other cluster of horses was centered.

Shyvana was watching the road as Demacian troops were helping escort civilians back towards the gates of the city, a curious creature overseeing the entire operation. With massive wings of crystalline stone, and rippling muscles of a bluish rock, the creature was decorated with golden patterns and sheets of metal. His horn-crowned head came up, looking in Shyvana's direction with a piercing orange stare, his eyes glowing brightly. Though he was impossibly far off, Shyvana felt a shiver run down her spine as the golem watched her for a moment before it turned back to the mother and child it was escorting away from the road, a pair of Demacian soldiers following in his wake.

"Hey Shy, you feeling okay?" Alicia quipped, rapping her knuckle on the dragoness's armored shoulder pauldron.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Shyvana muttered as she shook her head and levered the lance up, resting it on her shoulder, sinking just a bit under the weight.

"Whatever you say." Alicia murmured as she glanced back towards where Vorscham was now talking with the officers, a cross expression on his face. A look of defeat washed over him, his shoulder sinking as he turned and met Alicia's gaze. He waved them over. The gunny turned and tapped Shyvana on the shoulder again. "Come on, the LT wants us."

Shyvana nodded absentmindedly, still looking down the road towards the golem. She followed Alicia towards the officers though, the group falling silent as the dragoness and the gunny approached.

Vorscham cleared his throat. "Gunnery Sergeant Juniper, Trainee Shyvana, you're to advance along the road and try and assist the guardsmen dealing with the issue at hand." There was a mix of frustration and anger in his voice as he looked down at the two women standing before him. "The Major has stated that this will be an exercise in your ability to gather information and adapt to a situation based upon allied garrison forces who are trying to deal with what appears with an emergency situation. If you are unable to render assistance, you will gather information and report back. Understood?"

There was a moment of silence as Alicia gave Vorscham a molten stare, the lieutenant withering slightly, looking apologetic as Alicia sighed. She saluted and held it until Shyvana matched her, dropping it together. "Understood sir." She barked her reply, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. There was a murmur of appreciation and a wave of hushed chuckles as the officers watched Alicia and Shyvana begin to move up the road. Alicia cast a furious glare at the other officers who had moved off the road.

"What was that about?" Shyvana said, glancing over her shoulder back towards the officers as they finally moved out of earshot. "Is something wrong, June?"

"Seymour is being his usual, weaselly self." Alicia spat angrily, her boots starting to stomp as she tried not to display too much anger in her voice alone. "That rat bastard is just along for the ride. If he hadn't been _ordered_ to accompany the unit on our training exercise, he would be shut up in his comfy little office, trying fruitlessly to bed that stupid bitch of a secretary." She snickered coldly, sighing in disgust as she shook her head. "He's shirking his duty onto Vorscham, and forcing him to put us, more specifically, you, directly into the line of fire."

"So?" Shyvana shrugged, trying not to sound angry or offended. "It's not like I mind the extra work."

"You should." Alicia said, sighing as she watched the dragoness, her shoulders drooping as the Shyvana shifted the massive lance effortlessly to her other shoulder. "Major Seymour is gunning for you. He wants you to fail. Hell, he wants Vorscham to fail as well, and he's trying to get you both screwed over."

"What does he want with me?" Shyvana said, blinking, surprise clear on her face. "What did I do?"

"You're Vorscham's prodigy right now." Alicia said, snorting with disgust. "Seymour has been trying to get Vorscham jailed, demoted, discharged... anything he can to discredit the lieutenant. The major _hates _Vorscham with a passion." Alicia sighed, a tired look sliding onto her face. "Vorscham is a good officer, despite his gruff outer appearance and surly attitude. He excels when working in small unit tactics, and at this point, if it hadn't been for Seymour, Vorscham would probably be a major or a captain leading his own company." Alicia sighed and ran a hand over her face tiredly when she saw the shock on Shyvana face. "Seymour has made a habit out of using his subordinates to carry his career. He's made an art out of finding budding young officers as they come up and then having them indirectly guide him in his decisions and orders in the field. Anyone under his command could see what he is doing, but from above, he looked like any other decent minded officer. Competent enough, yes, and the one thing he was good at come from the fact that he has the gift of a silver tongue." She glanced cautiously over her shoulder, but they were a long way clear of the officers. They also seemed absorbed amid their own conversations. "I will give Seymour that, he knows how to schmooze an officer."

"Schmooze?" Shyvana repeated, a curious look on her face. "What's a '_schmooze_'?"

"Basically, think what you say to get into Jarvan's pants." Alicia giggled when Shyvana's face turned bright red, steam pouring off of her head. She slowed to a stop, shaking slightly as her face turned an even darker shade of red. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Shyvana, breathe girl." Alicia patted Shyvana gently on the back as the dragoness slowly faded back to her normal, pale color, shaking her head, though there was a certain amount of coloration still in her cheeks. "There ya go, take a few breaths and calm yourself."

"Sorry..." Shyvana murmured after a few moments, running a hand through her messy red hair. "I just... got a little bit warm there for a few moments."

"I could tell." Alicia chuckled, eying Shyvana for a moment before setting back off. She shrugged. "But anyways, he's always been a _major_ ass." Alicia snorted at her own joke. "Vorscham was the best of the many young officers that he tried to control, but when Vorscham..." Her voice trailed off for a moment as she frowned.

"When Vorscham what?" Shyvana muttered, looking at Alicia expectantly.

Alicia's brow furrowed as she glanced to the ground and then she glanced at Shyvana hesitantly. "Well, I don't know if I should..."

"Run!"

"Wha..." Alicia stammered as the world seemed to erupt around them. A man, screaming bloody murder, practically bowled her over. "Hey, asshole!" Alicia snarled as the man bounced off her and hit the ground. "What the hell?"

"Run!" The man pointed a shaky hand back down the road. "It's about to explode!" Alicia and Shyvana followed the man's finger, looking along road. In front of them, the thin plume of smoke had turned into a massive bluish cloud that was now arcing towards the sky as it rose from what appeared to be some kind of horseless carriage. Shyvana watched as it trundled off the edge of the road. Colored a mix of grays, reds and blacks, the cart was riding low, it massive payload sending the sleek nose pointing upwards at what appeared to be a dangerous angle. Smoke and sparks billowed from the clanking metal beast, an odd looking little Yordle riding the techmaturgical machine as it started to belch smoke from all sides.

"Something's wrong." Alicia murmured. "I wonder—hey wait! Shyvana, what are you doing!?"

"Just hold this!" Shyvana barked, dropping the lance to the ground with a cloud of dust billowing as it struck dirt, the dragoness handing it off to Alicia. "I'm going to help!"

"Hey, wai—WHOA!" Alicia sunk back, her knees nearly buckling as she tried to keep the lance from hitting the ground. "Shyvana!" She grunted under the weight of the lance, watching as the dragoness sprinted off. "Hold on!"

Shyvana was already weaving through the civilians who were now retreating along the road, away from the smoking metal monstrosity that was now violently spraying sparks and a thick cloud of black smoke. Flames began to lick the side of the machine. The Yordle that was riding it was beginning to panic, his arms flailing over the glowing control surfaces as he struggled to control the machine. It trundled off the edge of the road and came to a stop in the high grasses. A high pitched whistling sound echoed across the area, the noise slowly winding up to a piercing, jarring screech. Some of the retreating people dropped to the ground, their hands clamped over their ears, pain playing across their faces as they crashed to their knees. People screamed in pain, but Shyvana pushed past them, running as fast as she could without using her flames. She shut the noise out, doing her best to ignore the whistle.

"Clear the road! Get to safety!" The deep bass roar came from the winged stone golem. He turned towards Shyvana, growling as she sprinted forward. "Trainee! Get out of here!"

"You've still got people on the road!" Shyvana shouted as she sprinted past him. Behind him, a number of people were scattered along the road, collapsed against the shriek. The golem looked surprised, but soon the surprise turned to outrage, the golem's massive stone fists quivering angrily.

"What?" The golem roared in his gravely bass tone, glancing back towards the road. "How did—dammit!"

"Get them clear!" Shyvana shouted. "I'll help the Yordle!"

"But what are you..." The golem started to stammer as Shyvana raced past, flames coating her legs, pushing her faster on a plume of hot air. She pushed herself faster as she sprinted forth, the distance starting to rapidly close between her and the machine. As she got closer and closer to the machine, the acrid stink of sulfur and burning grass filled her nostrils.

_It's just like before._ Shyvana shook her head and tried to forget the images that flashed through her mind. _It's just like that time... the forest with Kampf. _Shyvana snarled as she pushed through the wave of nausea that washed over her. _No, no one deserves to die like this. _She watched as the diminutive little creature flapped his arms in panic, pushing on the glass and metal canopy that entrapped him on the machine. Waves of rolling black smoke obscured him, covering the machine in its entirety.

_Almost there..._

Shyvana dove and slid, dust erupting below her feet for a few meters before she hit the grass, using her arms to cover her head as she slid through the expanding veil of burning grass. She slid to a stop next to the machine, blue and black smoke now belching from behind its large, spoked wheels, a rattling machine humming and whistling atop the horseless carriage's cargo area. The front was cylindrical shaped metal, stained black with smoke as electricity arced up and down the metal in places, sparks pouring into the burnt-away remnants of the grass.

"Come on... nngh...?! WAAAA-" Silence followed the diminutive scream.

"Hey!" Shyvana coughed as she caught some of the dark smoke, gasping for air. "If you can hear me, let me know!"

"Over here!" A small voice shouted from the other side of the machine. Shyvana coughed, gasping for air as she dropped towards the ground, looking along the surface for any sign of the voice. Some of the smoke had settled around the machine though, and she could barely see or breathe. Even along the ground there was a thin veil of smoke rising from the charred grass, but Shyvana tried her best to breath shallowly. "Please, I can't get out!" There was a series of clanking sounds, the machine shuddered violently and then the whistle fell silent, though it continued to vibrate and hum softly. Shyvana remained still for several long seconds, waiting apprehensively for it to return, but the machine simply remained smoking and shaking. More clanking came from where she suspected the Yordle would be, followed by the voice again. "The techmaturgical sensors must have set of the Drain Out of Mana machine... If only it were working as intended! Blast!"

"Hold on, I'm coming to get you, just keep talking!" Shyvana covered her mouth as she coughed, tears forming in her eyes against the smoke. Her eyes burned as she felt her way along the ground. She could feel heat even through her armor, as if she were getting a sunburn on her face as she moved forward. The panel of metal she was following around the vehicle gave way, receding upwards in a smooth curve. Shyvana continued to follow the metal around, taking deep breaths and she rounded the front. "My name is Shyvana!" She shouted, trying to keep the voice talking. "What's a Yordle like you doing in Demacia?"

"Shyvana?" The yordle said curiously, surprise evident in his voice. "I've heard of you, you're the creature that came back with the Demacian prince, yes?"

"Yep, that's me!" Shyvana shouted as she continued to feel her way around the nose cone of the machine. "How about you? What's your name!"

"My name is Cecil!" The voice shouted. "I'm an professor from Piltover. Save me and I'll make you the best armor you can imagine! I'll put the scheme in schematic!"

"Thanks, but Jarvan's already got me a set being made!" Shyvana shouted back.

"Who said you needed only one?!" The voice shouted back and cackled excitedly. "I theorize that more than one wou—AHH!" A small explosion sounded and another wave of heat washed over Shyvana's face. She ducked her head until the wave of heat had passed.

"Cecil!" Shyvana shouted, glancing upwards, ducking her head as something hot and metal dropped down next to her, slicing her cheek open. She hissed in pain, holding a hand over the wound, but she closed her eyes for a brief moment and put the pain aside. "Hey, Cecil, talk to me!"

"It singed my mustache!" He shouted, anger now filling his voice. "This is utterly preposterous! It singed my beautiful mustache! This is outrageous, how did this happen?! I tested it so much... I needed more time..." The sound of banging carried through the air as he struggled with the door.

"It's just hair!" Shyvana shouted back, trying not to grin in the grim situation. "I'll save your skin, and then you can worry about your damn mustache!"

"But, but... this shouldn't have happened!" Cecil's voice shouted, wavering as fear coursed through him. "My inventions are perfect! I've never had this problem before, it's not as I hypothesized! Bah this is so bothersome!"

"Hey, performance issues effect everyone sometimes!" Shyvana shouted with a grin, taking a deep breath and pushing herself up. She hoped to get a chuckle from the voice but silence followed from within the machine. She ran her hands up along the metal, a cage blocking her off from the sound of his voice. She tugged on it and felt it shudder, but it didn't give way. "I can't get to you, there's something in the way!"

"It's the safety cage!" The voice replied urgently. The sound of small hands slapping buttons and flipping switches carried over the growing hiss of the smoke pouring out and the crackle of verdant flames and electricity. "Stand back, I'll open it!"

"Do it!" Shyvana said, sinking back and dropping towards the ground to take a deep breath, gasping and coughing for air. She hung onto the metal cage to guide herself back up as it opened. "Open it!" The sound of groaning, ripping metal resounded as the cage shuddered in her hand, but it did not move. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know! Let me fix that!" A new level of urgency coursed through his voice as the strikes upon buttons and metal panels quickened. "This might be—AHH!"

"Damnit!" Shyvana snarled as the cage jolted with electricity, snapping at her hand as she jerked it away. The electricity had run through her metal gauntlet, heating it up to a painful temperature, burning the leather glove that Shyvana wore underneath. Shyvana ripped off the metal of her gauntlet, smoke rising from the leather glove, stinking like burnt strider steak. Shyvana hissed in pain but she shook her head. "Cecil? Cecil talk to me!"

_Silence._

"Damnit!" Shyvana shouted, slamming her fist down onto the ground in anger. She looked around for something she could use to pry the cage away, but there was nothing but blurred smoke, her eyes tearing against the smoke. She blinked her eyes and then clamped them shut, the burning was too painful.

"Can you hear me!" The deep bass rumble echoed from outside the cloud of smoke. "Hey, trainee, if you're still alive, say something!"

"Who's there?" Shyvana shouted, inhaling some smoke and falling into a fit of coughs.

"It's Galio!" The deep bass rumbled again. "You need to get out of there!"

"But Cecil is still trapped inside!" Shyvana screamed back.

"WHAT?!" The voice barked, alarmed. "I told him... never mind, it's too late, you need to get out of there!" The voice had turned dark and angry, rumbling like distant thunder. It was direct and gravelly, confident despite the situation at hand.

"I won't leave him!" Shyvana shouted angrily. "If only I could see what the hell I was doing!" Shyvana snarled, slamming her hand down onto the ground angrily again. "Damnit!"

"Hold on!" The voice rumbled. "Close your eyes and cover your mouth!"

Shyvana ducked her head down but looked towards the voice. "What are you-..."

"DO IT NOW!"

Shyvana took a deep breath and then clamped her eyes shut and the covered her nose and mouth with her hands. The smell of charred meat filled her nostrils, but suddenly a gust of wind passed over her head. She felt her hair getting tugged into the air and whipped about, an immense force practically ripping her from the ground and tossing her up and into the air. Shyvana dug one hand into the ground, snarling as it nearly tossed her away.

Suddenly, the gust disappeared, leaving Shyvana hanging in the air. She hit the ground, hard, coughing and gasping for air. Her body burned as she sucked in the first few breath of clean air she had tasted in several long minutes. She tried to shake off the pain and surprise as she pushed herself up and tried to overcome the confusion and surprise she felt. As she blinked away the tears in her eyes, she noticed swirling amber and red colors dancing around her like snowflakes. Brilliant autumn leaves fluttered around her, twisting and dropping in the sudden absence of the wind.

"Get him free while the smoke is clear!" The deep bass rumble barked from behind her. She looked over, surprise clear on her face as the massive gargoyle glared at her with its glowing orange eyes. Blue and gold stone skin covered his body, a grinding sound resounding as he moved about, his wings flapping rapidly as he kept himself floating above the ground. "Go, trainee! Do it!"

Shyvana pushed herself up and got to her knees, getting a good look at the machine for the first time. Built atop a long cylindrical shape that reminded her of a wine bottle, there were two smaller ones that ran along both sides, red and black stripes running at angles down the cylinders until they disappeared under the large, boxy cargo area. A mostly glass enclosure surrounded the the top of the machine, and along the bottom there was a metal cage that protected the glass where it was closest to the red and black tanks. Shyvana saw red text on a white background that read 'fuel tanks' and then she shuddered. _Fuel like for a Dragon's breath... _Shyvana shivered and shook her head. _If they go before we get out of here..._

"Cecil!" She turned and banged on the metal cage, trying to see if the Yordle was okay, but the glass had blackened over from the flame and sparks. "Cecil stay back if you can hear me!" Shyvana ripped the metal from her other gauntlet free and then shook her head, gritting her teeth. "This is gonna hurt..." She muttered nervously, flexing her hands tentatively. "Here goes nothing."

Shyvana grabbed hold of the metal cage with both hands and snarled as heat intermediately cut through the palms of her gloves, electricity crackling and snapping along the cage as she jerked it free, the metal moaning and howling as she ripped it clear of the machine. It snapped and shrieked as she tore it clean off. She tossed it aside as electricity started to jump to her armor, coursing along her body, just above her skin. The heat was oppressive, her entire body aching as if it was covered in sunburns. She snarled in anger as the heat became unbearable, though Shyvana pushed onwards. She reared a fist back and then punched the glass dome, shattering it. Pain flooded her right hand as her vision was obscured by thick black smoke, something warm and wet now flowing along her fist.

"You're out of time!" The gargoyle shouted over the piercing whine. "Get clear!"

Shyvana grabbed the small Yordle, her eyes burning, her entire body now aching as it felt like she was being baked alive. She dove away, rolled up to her feet, and then started sprinting away as fast as she could, towards the sound of the gargoyle's voice. "Go!" The whistle was now a piercing shriek, and smoke was billowing violently from the machine. Suddenly the shriek ended.

There was a moment of perfect silence as Shyvana looked over her shoulder.

The main body of the machine crumpled inwards and then ballooned outwards.

Shyvana felt her skin begin to harden into a leathery hide, scales cutting through painfully, her horns breaking through her skull as she wrapped her arms around the Yordle.

"Oh shi-..."

The machine exploded.


	22. Chapter 21: Demsec

"Bah, bureaucrats. As soon as you outlive your usefulness, he'll cut you loose."

"You sound as if you know about this sort of thing." Delancey said with a slight frown. Jarvan and his guards had left General Lorcan's outer office, and were now deep within the confines of the Demacian Palace. "I liked the old man. General Lorcan? He seemed nice."

"They always do." The sergeant major growled ominously. "At first." He twisted his hands around. "If you're lucky, they'll just stab you in the back, rather than sending you flying like some sort of poor rag doll caught in their flaming explosion of power-lust and greed." He grunted angrily, reigning his temper back in as he shook his head in disgust. "Nothing but a bunch of pussies. That's all I have to say about their type."

"Sounds like there's quite a bit more that you left unsaid." Delancey murmured thoughtfully, eying the sergeant major curiously. A predatory grin spread on her face as she leaned in closer to him. "You haven't told us much about yourself, sergeant major. Perhaps this is a little seen side of your past?"

"Enough." Jarvan said, forestalling the explosion and subsequent argument he could see building in Perrywinkle and Delancey's faces. "Regardless of ulterior motives, he's helping us for now. I'll play along if it helps me get Quinn free." Delancey frowned for a few moments before she shrugged and fell in behind Jarvan as he continued through the halls of the Demacian Palace, deeper away from the palace proper, and onwards towards another of the many wings, particularly the one that housed the high command.

"Speaking of this 'Quinn'." Delancey said, quickening her stride to better try and match Jarvan's pace, "How are you sure you can trust her?"

Jarvan glanced down at her but didn't slow his pace, turning a corner and continuing down another hallway. "She saved Shyvana and I's lives more times than I can count on one hand. She helped us avenge the death of my men, my friends. She guided us to the monster that slew them." Jarvan had to slow his pace to calm the fury that was building in his voice. "She earned my trust long ago, and what I paid her in coin was merely a drop in the bucket to what I truly owe her."

"Sorry." Delancey muttered, realizing she had struck a nerve, falling back into stride with the sergeant major a few steps behind Jarvan. "I didn't realize how good a friend she was to you."

"It's fine." Jarvan said, sighing, and shaking his head. He slowed to a halt at the intersection of two hallways, glancing around and frowning slightly.

"Left, sir." Perrywinkle growled, his impassible frown seated on his face. Jarvan nodded, waiting till a patrol passed, nodding at the soldiers and then making the turn and resuming his long strides as he headed towards the DSB headquarters.

"What do you know about the Security Brigade's current commander, Sergeant Major?" Jarvan asked as they walked.

"Well, considering he reports directly to your father, the officer who serves as the commandant of the brigade is Brigadier General Geoffrey Jormander." The sergeant major's face was a stony mask as he walked, a perpetual frown marring his face. "He's young, a military marksman turned officer, turned intelligence spook. Master of long range reconnaissance, and experienced as far as assassination, information gathering and subterfuge goes. He's dangerous and highly capable."

"I've heard stories about him." Jarvan murmured, frowning. "He led an experimental program to adopt Piltover arms into the service for our marksmen, right?"

"Yes, sir." The sergeant major nodded. "He started his career in the border towns, patrolling and fighting in endless numbers of skirmishes with the Noxians. There, he mastered small unit tactics and recon operations, with which he used to help reorganize the special forces many years ago. It would be best to be on your guard, sir."

"Very well." Jarvan said, nodding. He slowed outside the doorway to the Security Brigade's headquarters. The unit's crest hung on each of the double doors, the circular background showing a winged sword overlain atop a bow and arrows, with a stylized storm cloud with lightning striking in the background. There were two guards posted along either side of the door, their lances held at the ready, though they did not oppose Jarvan as he went for the door. He opened it and moved in, noting that Delancey had moved slightly closer as they moved into the hallways beyond. Jarvan noted that there weren't any noticeable difference between the hallway they had just entered and the one they had just left, glancing back over his shoulder. There were various different hangings on the wall, Jarvan noting that some of the tapestries depicting Demacia troops in battles that he had never heard of. Other empty sections of wall between doorways had been filled with framed awards and medals that had been awarded, often posthumously Jarvan noted, to members of the Security Brigade.

Jarvan paused before and read the citation below a Demacian Distinguished Service Cross that had been paired with a Piltover Medal of Valor detailing how a Security Brigade team had prevented an act of terrorism in Piltover. The citation went on to tell of how the unit's commander had been awarded the two medals after he had sacrificed himself to contain the explosion that was meant to trigger a chain reaction that would have brought the city to its knees.

"Captain Hal Faulentoss is one of the most important heroes that Demacia and Piltover have never heard of." A high pitched voice announced, approaching from the far end of the hallway. Jarvan stood up and straightened his tunic, surprised when the short blonde soldier smiled warmly at him. "Greetings, Prince Jarvan." Luxanna Crownguard bowed, though there was a sparkle in her blue eyes as she looked back up at him. "It's been a long time."

"Lux?" Jarvan blinked a few times and shook his head, trying to hide his surprise with a smile. He ran a hand through his hair trying to remember the last time he had seen the young woman. She hadn't been much taller than his waist, and though she didn't even come close to his shoulder even now, she had grown up. "Indeed. It's been..."

"Years." The youngest Crownguard said with a glowing smile. She turned towards Delancey, a moment of surprise showing as her smile grew wider. "Vivian! It's been so long!" She stepped forward and hugged the sergeant, stepping back and leaving the green-eyed sergeant looking like she had just been shot. A few moments passed as the shock passed over Delancey's face, a smile slowly starting to spread.

"Hi, Lux." Delancey said awkwardly, but the smile obviously was meant to downplay her surprise. "I didn't expect to see you here..." Lux nodded at the sergeant, shrugging slightly as she turned back to Jarvan with an expectant smile.

"Unfortunately, I don't have a huge amount of time." Lux said, regret seeping into her voice. "The General asked me to come and greet you, a friendly face and all that." She smiled at Jarvan again, dimpling prettily as she gestured for the three to follow. "I'll show you to the command center. If you'll follow me?"

"Light the way." Jarvan murmured, grinning slightly as Lux shot him a sarcastic grin, rolling her eyes as he fell in next to the short blonde Demacian. "How have you been, Lux? Last time I saw you. you were still at the Arcane Academy." The blonde mage nodded sagely and then smiled up at the prince.

"I graduated not long after you left Demacia." Lux giggled softly. "I was recruited by Demsec not long after that and I've served with them for close to two years now." She paused, pondering, tapping the tip of her short staff against her chin thoughtfully. "I've been serving with Brother at the Institute of War recently, though I still do favors for some of the officers here at Demsec in my spare time."

Jarvan nodded his head, impressed, reconsidering the young Demacian Sorceress as she gestured to a wall. He frowned and opened his mouth to question the directions, but Lux grinned and shook her head to forestall the comment. She waved her hand over the wall and Jarvan watched as the stone shimmered and dissolved, revealing a staircase that descended deeper into the castle. "Usually we don't bother with lifting the barrier, but I figured that since its your first time, it'd be easier to let you see where the step is."

"Fucking step." The sergeant major grumbled as he passed through the entrance way, glancing over his shoulder with a frown.

"You took a fall your first time, didn't you?" Lux said, hiding her mischievous smile as the noncom growled menacingly. "It's common practice for new Demsec officers to walk in blindly. It teaches them that appearances can be deceiving and that caution and vigilance must be constant."

Jarvan snorted, glancing at the sergeant major who rubbed his nose as if an old wound was tingling. "Crude, but effective." The prince noted with a grin.

"It doesn't take much to make a mark." Lux said, matching the prince's grin. They emerged from the staircase into an open room, not much larger than Jarvan's bedroom, a large desk off to the right side, and a large archway behind it. Guards were posted around the room, watching the newcomers with unease. There were secretaries posted behind the high desk, looking down towards the small group led by the young blonde mage. She waved to the secretary and smiled, the black haired woman with icy blue eyes glaring at the the prince, Delancey and the sergeant major, each in turn, glancing at her desk. "Guests for the general." Lux announced happily.

The woman wore a frown, as she leafed through her papers, finally sighing and glaring back down at the prince. "Very well." She muttered testily, hitting an unseen button. A section of the desk disappeared into the floor, allowing the prince and his guards to follow Lux through. "Step through, one at a time." Lux went first, prancing through and then gesturing for Jarvan to follow. As he stepped through, he felt the tickle of something against his skin, like a wave gently washing over his body all at once.

"What was that?" He murmured, shaking his head to try and clear the moment of disorientation that had followed.

"Hey, my weapons!" Delancey shouted, patting herself down. She still had her armor on, but Jarvan noted that her sheath was empty and her clothes looked slightly baggy in places.

"Techmaturgical defense barrier." Lux said, grinning. "It removes any and all weapons and holds them on a separate plane. When you walk back through, they'll reappear on your person, same as before."

"Handy." Jarvan murmured, grinning at Delancey's dejected look.

"I feel so... bare..." Delancey muttered, holding her arms over her chest plate. "I want my weapons back."

"Stop sniveling and deal." The sergeant major growled. Delancey shot him a dejected frown but Jarvan's glare silenced them both. They stepped into a short tunnel beyond, passing guards posted at regular intervals, luminescent strips glowing along the ground.

"Sorry about the secretary, she's never very pleasant towards visitors, no matter how important they are." Lux said, trying to make light conversation. The Sergeant Major grunted from behind, but he didn't have time to actually say anything. Lux smiled. "Welcome to the heart of Demsec." Lux spread her arms as she gestured to the massive room the tunnel emptied into. Jarvan felt his mouth drop open as the chaotic scene unfolded before him.

There were hundreds of personnel moving about the room, mages calling out communiques, clerks filing and attending to paperwork, and officers lost among the mix, sorting out the chaos into something orderly, barely resembling command and control. The centerpiece of the massive, open room was a vertical board across the back wall that had a map of Valoran on it. There were other smaller maps along the sides that represented some of the outlying city-states, a large board that Jarvan recognized as Ionia dominating a small section of the wall off to the right of the main board. Soldiers attended to the boards from a gantry that hung next to it, using long poles to move various unit markers from place to place. Jarvan noted a surprising presence in each of the city states, as well as other markers that hung from the pegs that dotted the board, some colored red, others purple and even a few of other colors.

"I assume the blue markers are Demacian, the red are Noxian and the others..." He frowned as he tried to determine what belonged to who.

"Purple represents Piltover, yellow, Zaun, and so forth." A strong voice announced over the din of the busy command center.

"Officer on deck!" A faceless voice shouted as, who Jarvan could only assume was the brigadier general, stepped out from a small room that was attached to the command center, his hands resting on the railing before him that lined the staircase that descended to the floor of the command center. Silence descended upon the command center, leaving Jarvan dumbfounded as he glanced around the room.

_Perfect_ _silence. Impressive..._

"As you were." The voice was strong and firm, the young officer, not much older than Jarvan at first glance, descended from the stairs towards the prince as the din slowly rose again as the chaos resumed. The brigadier general slowly approached, taking his time as he observed the work of his men and their efficient methods as they went about their tasks with absolute precision. He turned to face Jarvan and a thin smile spread on his face. "Greetings and salutations, Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV. Welcome to Demacian Security." He paused a hand full of paces from the prince, taking a few moments to eye the prince up and down. "You're taller than I would have imagined."

Jarvan forced a tight lipped smile onto his face, taking the moment of silence to size the officer up for himself. Dressed in a downplayed and simple set of Demacian fatigues, there was only a single gleaming star upon his shoulder epaulets to denote his rank. The strip on his chest read 'Jormander' and the Demacian coat of arms and the Demsec patches rode on his right and left shoulders respectively. He had pale blonde hair that was short cropped on the sides, though it was slightly longer along the top. He had slightly tanned skin, though it wasn't as dark as the sergeant major, and dark brown eyes, almost red in color, that glimmered coldly. Jarvan raised his hand to his brow and saluted, noting with satisfaction that both of his subordinates did the same.

General Jormander saluted and then extended his hand towards the prince. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." There was a smile upon his face, but Jarvan felt like he was looking into the eyes of a snake, rather than a man. Though the smile carried the appearance of being normal, it lacked all of the warmth and invitation that was normally associated with the gesture. Jarvan shook his hand briefly before he produced the letter of introduction from General Lorcan.

"From General Lorcan." Jarvan extended the letter towards the general, waiting for him to accept it.

After several long moments he did, the general glancing at the seal before he turned to the young Demacian Sorceress. "That will be all, Miss Crownguard. Thank you for your assistance, I don't want to delay your departure any longer."

"Departure?" Jarvan echoed, looking down at the sorceress.

She nodded and smiled. "I'm heading back to the Institute to try and help coordinate the rescue efforts regarding the trapped miners in Kalamanda." She stepped towards Delancey and gave her a brief hug again. "We should catch up sometime, Vivian."

"Sure." Delancey said, smiling and nodding. "Soon as you get back, alright?"

Lux nodded and smiled as she turned to Jarvan. "It was good to see you again." She glanced away, blushing slightly but finally decided that a hug was appropriate, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a quick kiss on his cheek. She took a step back nervously, looking up at him with a small smile. "You, brother, and I should catch up some time as well. It's been too long since we saw each other."

"Alright." Jarvan said gruffly, trying to let his mind catch up with his body as he watched the sorceress turn and start away from the group.

Lux stopped before the entrance tunnel, spun on her heel and waved happily. "See ya, Jarvan!" She disappeared down the tunnel before Jarvan had the chance to say anything.

"If you'll follow me, we can speak in my office." The general said with an amused smile. He turned and started slowly moving towards his office on the far wall, again taking his time to observe and watch as his men worked. He held the letter in hand, both of them clasped behind his back.

"Quite the player, eh, Prince?" Delancey said, grinning, nudging Jarvan in the side with her elbow.

"Who, Lux?" Jarvan said, blinking a few times before giving his sergeant a disapproving glare. "Hardly. She's like a little sister to me, nothing more."

"I see." Delancey singsonged, a sly smile spreading on her face. "That's always an easy way to get laid." She snickered, clasping her hands in front of her face, looking up at Jarvan with sparkling big eyes, batting her eyelashes. "'Oniichan! Oniichan! Can you pweeaase help me out of this dress? It's oh so tight...'" Jarvan glared at her, aghast as the sergeant giggled to herself, strutting happily as she continued to giggle. She matched Jarvan's pace, the smile on her face growing even larger. "Hey, I know! If you want, I can call you big brother too!" She stroked her chin in a mocking 'thoughtful' expression, looking up at Jarvan with a devious grin. "If you _really_ want, I'm sure Alicia and I could convince Shyvana to call you 'big brother' as well." Jarvan's frown turned decidedly surly as he continued to glare at the sergeant, sending her into another fit of giggles.

"I've heard that the warriors of the Rakkor tribe atop Mount Targon call every woman of the tribe 'mother'." Jarvan said, watching as Delancey's laughter fizzled out, ending with a curious glance up at him. "And every tribal elder is called 'grandfather'. If you truly think that our unit would benefit from the addition of such practices, you can call me what you wish." Delancey stared up at him in disbelief, blinking rapidly as a grin slid onto Jarvan's face. "Perhaps you'd like to write a report on its effectiveness, Delancey? I'm sure it could prove to be most interesting. Maybe ten pages? Better make it thirty, just to be safe."

"No, thank you, sir." Delancey grumbled, disappointment flooding her voice as she rolled her eyes, pouting slightly.

"Then perhaps you'd like to-..."

"I'll be quiet now." Delancey muttered.

"If any of you sumbitches try and call me grandpa..." The Sergeant Major's walleyed glare turned on Jarvan and Delancey in turn, each looking over at him in surprise. A moment of silence followed the group as the general started up the steps. "...I'll kill you."

"Noted." Jarvan said with a snort and a grin as the General opened his office door and ushered them inside. Jarvan had to duck his head as he stepped into the office, taking a quick glance around the room as he stood up straight. There room was surprisingly spacious, open space abound as he looked around. The room had been lined in a very blonde wood, giving it a desert cast, the lights keeping the room bright. The pale wood gleamed, hiding the fact that they were deep underground. There were two guards posted to the left side of the room, though Jarvan's gaze was drawn to a large rifle that was ceremonially hung across the back wall. The general stepped in behind Jarvan and his men, closing the door and then moving towards the desk. He paused next to it, holding the letter of introduction from General Lorcan in his hand. He slid a finger under the parchment up against the wax seal, but he paused. The general stared at the letter, his eyes playing over the seal on the parchment envelope, a thoughtful expression on his face.

General Jormander ripped the letter in half and cast it into the trash, looking up to Jarvan with a thinly veiled smile. "I always found letters to be such... _deceiving_ representations of character." He mused, delighted with himself. "They're so polished and clinical, where as a face to face is so raw and definitive, wouldn't you say, Prince Jarvan?" Jarvan was too stunned to respond right away, his eyes still stuck on the envelope that had been ripped asunder and discarded without even a cursory glance.

"Jarvan?" The sounds of shackles clanking around immediately drew Jarvan's attention to the wall to the left. "Jarvan!" Quinn stood up, the chains that bound her manacled hands to the spears of two attending guards clanked and jingled as she tugged on the chain. The guard to her left and grabbed her shoulder and roughly shoved her back down onto the padded bench she was sitting on. She glared hatefully at the guard.

"Keep quiet." The guard growled. Quinn glared at the guard, hatred burning in her eyes, the flames dying down as she looked back to Jarvan, fear and pain washing over her face.

"Quinn?" Jarvan said, blinking. He turned to the general, a smile upon the officer's lips. "If you've harmed her in any way, you're going to burn." Jarvan growled, his voice deep and guttural now. "What's the meaning of this, general?"

"So she is an acquaintance of yours, then?" The general said, maneuvering past the prince and his two escorts, moving up to his desk and then seating himself in his chair, lacing his fingers together as he leaned backwards, kicking his feet up on the desk, a mildly amused gin on his face.

"She's a good friend." Jarvan growled, glancing at Quinn as her face lit up, a smile spreading over it. She turned to the general, tugging on the manacles, nodding vigorously.

"See! I told you!" She said, turning back to Jarvan. "They've had me held down here for days and days."

"I've heard." Jarvan growled, still staring at the general, aas he posted his fist on his hip. "So, _Jor-gun_, perhaps you'd like to release my friend here, and then you can start explaining why you've got members of your command spying on me." The general gave Jarvan a curt, impressed nod, his smile spreading to his eyes for a brief moment, like a duelist acknowledging a particularly good strike from his opponent. He spun a bit and chuckled to himself, nodding thoughtfully as he looked to the guards.

"You've heard of my nickname? Very well, gentlemen." The general said, nodding, waving his hands at the guards. "You heard the man: release her." He waited as one of the guards nodded and then unlocked the chains, releasing the manacles. "You're dismissed."

"Sir." The lead guard said, saluting and then moving to the door, leaving the officer along with Quinn, Jarvan and the prince's escorts.

"You look confused, prince." General Jormander said, still wearing his faintly amused smile. "Perhaps you'd like an explanation?" He turned to Quinn and then smiled coldly, his eyes glittering in the dim light. "Ahh, but first, perhaps you'd like to explain to him what you were doing? Maybe your story will change slightly now that the prince is here." The pleasantries in his voice were so artificial and the amusement so thick that is almost hurt Jarvan's ears to listen. The general turned towards Jarvan and spread his hands apart, using one to point to Quinn and the other to shrug. "She's refused to answer certain questions, and while I was not above the prospect of torturing them out of her, I figured I would give her the courtesy of actually trying to confirm her story."

"Shyvana or Forsythe could have easily confirmed the story." Jarvan growled menacingly. "Why keep her locked up for a week and a half?"

The general laughed. "You say that like I would trust the word of a former street urchin and a half-beast who is sleeping with the estranged prince." Jarvan's frown darkened, and the general's smile broadened and he clapped his hands together as he pulled himself to his feet, stepping around his desk and beginning to pace. "You thought that a secret perhaps? Ah but that's hardly a secret to me, young prince, I know all about you." He tapped the saber on his hip thoughtfully. "Why do you think I held onto this one?" He gestured to Quinn. "I confirmed her story easily, and I even managed to cross check her background in the first two days." His gaze tracked to Jarvan, his dark eyes narrowing as a malicious smile settled on his face, his lips revealing rows of pearly white teeth. "I wanted to meet with you, Prince Jarvan, and welcome you to my warfare. This is my territory... you'd best tread lightly, lest you like all your secrets to come to light."

"Bullshit." Jarvan snapped. "You don't know anything."

"Where to start." He stepped closer to Jarvan, looking up at him with a cold smile. "I know all of your secrets, prince." He chuckled maliciously, stepping back and beginning to pace again, like a wolf closing on its prey. "Shall we start with the possibilities of treason you face? What exactly are you doing for Katarina Du Couteau anyways? Perhaps you'd like to explain what happened in the depths of the Noxian prison you were held in? Or perhaps what you spoke about with Jericho Swain."

"What the hell do you want with me?" Jarvan snarled, his anger still building steadily.

"Nothing, yet." The general's laugh echoed around the room, but there was nothing pleasant or remotely comforting about the sound. "You'll funnel all of your information through me from now on, including that interesting little theory you've been working on in your study. I'm quite fascinated about the possibility of a split in the Noxian Forces. It would prove _most helpful_ to my own information networks if you'd let me in on your little investigation."

"Bite me, you sniveling little cunt." Jarvan snapped back, his fist now quivering in anger.

"Ah, ah, ah." The general waggled his finger in a mocking tone. "That's not how you talk to a superior officer." He tucked his arms behind his back as he moved towards the side of the room, chuckling to himself as he strolled about with an amused smile on his face. He glanced back to the prince and then chuckled again, running his hand along the opulent, sandy wooden panel that lined the rough stone walls. "Such a loud bark, but do you have any bite?" He chuckled at his joke, only the sound of his laughter filling the void in the room that was rapidly developing between the general and Jarvan and his staff.

"What do you want, asshole?" Jarvan growled through gritted teeth.

"Oooh, feisty." The general cackled as he rested his hand atop the saber that hung on his belt, his other hand resting on the sandy wood of a book shelf. He traced his finger along the grain of the wood, running his fingertip down towards the books, running along several spines before he paused atop an ancient looking tome, pulling it out and then running his hand along the cover before he cracked the book open and started leafing through the pages. "Long before the Lightshield Dynasty, there was chaos amid Demacia. Nobles squabbled among themselves, everyone fighting for control of the throne and the power that was wielded by the king. Wars raged both inside and outside of Demacia as Noxus vied for control over much of Valoran" The general ran a finger along a page of the tome and then paused, tapping the page with the tip of his finger, a thin smile spreading onto his face. "However, both of the city-states were merely the playthings of a greater king. They had been given power and dominion of their lands to control as they saw fit by the true kind of Valoran."

"You speak of the legends of the oldest of the Ruined Kings." Jarvan said, a frown on his face as he shifted from foot to foot, adjusting his sling to try and remove some of the pressure on his arm.

"You know the legend?" The general said, raising his brow, seemingly impressed for the first time since Jarvan had met him. "I didn't think a realist like you would have known of such things." He chuckled.

"My caretaker had a thing for old tales." Jarvan said, again shifting from foot to foot.

"Halsington." The general said, noting with satisfaction that a shiver and a frown ran through Jarvan. He nodded slightly, his eyes dropping back to the book. "The oldest of the Ruined Kings had dominion over almost all of Runeterra. His lands stretched from the Conqueror's Sea to the Guardian's Sea, from the Plague Jungles to the Freljord. He laughed and listened to stories of the fighting between Noxus and Demacia while he dined on the finest Runeterra had to offer. He was content to watch his subjects squabble for his entertainment. He was a god among men."

"You think yourself the same?" Jarvan said, wearing an incredulous smile. "At first I thought you an asshole. Now, I think you a madman."

A cruel smile spread over the face of the general. "I learned to enjoy killing Noxians during the border wars, dear prince. Do not mistake madness for a lack of patriotism." Jarvan smile faded. "While the Ruined King was content to enjoy his holdings, realizing he had conquered everything he could, there was another, a son. The eldest son of the king, a prince just like you, sought to discover what he could do to earn his father's approval. He scoured the lands in search of foes that when slain, he could present to his father to garner his favor, and in time, his lands and holdings that he would hope it inherit."

"My journey was not to garner the favor of my father." Jarvan growled, his face burning in embarrassment at the suggestions.

The general laughed haughtily, waving the prince off with an admonishing smile. "And yet you desire to slay your draconian girlfriend with your _sword_ in hopes of producing a more powerful heir?" Jarvan felt fire course through his veins, a snarl building in his throat as the desire to haul off and deck the bastard mounted to an all time high. "My story isn't finished yet." The general chuckled, forestalling further comment from Jarvan. "The prince struggled to find a foe that was his equal. In time, in his endless search, he ended getting killed in his pursuits. The king was distraught, and in his grief, he failed to realize the dissent that was building underneath his rule, that the killer was actually in his midst." The general's smile sent a shiver down Jarvan's spine again. "One of the general's lieutenants was leading a coup, starting with the slaughter of the king's posterity. He ended it by killing the king, breaking apart his holdings and taking one to govern as his own. That lieutenant secured the general as one of the Ruined Kings of old."

"The king's lieutenant ended up naming himself King Eradicus." Jarvan said with a frown. "He was said to take Noxus as his own, and put himself on the throne as the first of the Grand Generals. He established the long standing tradition of dominance through strength as the deciding factor. So what, you want to conquer Noxus and take it as your own?"

"Funny." Jormander chuckled, though it lacked the humor it had previously carried. "No, but I wanted you to know that if you take to pursuing your own petty quests, and lead Demacia down a road that leads to ruin, I will have to shot dead, drug into the street, and lauded as the bastard son who ruined Demacia. You will become the newest Ruined King."

"Treason is a hefty charge to bear, General." Jarvan said with a menacing growl. "If you'd like to pursue this further, I'm sure my father would be interested in hearing what you have to say."

General Jormander laughed shrilly. "Who do you think put me up to this?" He gestured to the room and towards the door, indicating the entire Security Brigade. "I wouldn't be here, I wouldn't be in charge of this entire unit if the king did not trust me as intimately as his own son." The general pointed his finger at Jarvan's chest, driving it forwards like a harpoon. "You need to watch yourself, prince. There are people gunning for you, for me, for your father, and you just keep prancing about like it's nothing. As soon as you prove to be a threat of the safety of Demacia and her people, I will end you."

"You're a bastard, you know that?" Jarvan hissed, angrily. The general looked pleased, despite the harsh tone of Jarvan's words.

"No need to be so negative, Jarvan." The general chuckled, sitting on the edge of his desk and picking up a small cube. He rolled it in his hands for a few moments before tossing it up and catching it in his palm, shifting it from hand to hand, tossing it and catching it again, repeating the cycle. "All you have to do is work with me, rather than against me."

"What is you want then?" Jarvan growled as menacingly as possible. The general paid him no heed, instead, continuing to toy with the small cube. Jarvan lashed out and slapped the cube aside, sending it bouncing across the room, skittering along the ground, before it came to a rest underneath the bench Quinn had been seated upon. "I've had it with these damned games of yours! What the fuck do you want from me?"

General Jormander's jovial tone instantly flat lined, his temperament completely shifting from friendly commanding officer to that of a snake about to strike. He stood up straight and raised himself to his full height, still only coming to the prince's nose, but suddenly Jarvan felt dwarfed by the man. The simple change in posture had completely changed his image from conniving, shadow bound mastermind to the sharply cut officer that represented the very best that Demacia had to offer. He took a single step forward, bringing him within a hair's width of Jarvan, chest to chest as he glared up at him with a molten gaze. "I want full disclosure, full information and every detail about everything you find out, see, or come across. Anything out of the ordinary, you run it by me. Anything you want to do or see? I hear about it first. Anything you so much as think about, you ask me for permission. You so much as want to bone that disgusting half-bitch tramp that you so adore, you don't do it unless you get my permission. From now on, I own you."

"Or what?" Jarvan growled, his fist quivering in anger.

Malicious intent seemed to manifest in the air, coalescing like a cloud among the room, hanging in the air like an oppressive stench. Jormander grinned in a devious way, leaving him with the appearance somewhere between a snake and a shark, ruthless as the shark and as slippery as the snake. He turned away, moving towards the back wall, his hand hesitating over a book. "Your pretty little bitch?" The general mused with a cruel sneer, glancing over his shoulder to see Jarvan's reaction, laughing as he turned back to his bookshelf. He let his hands play over the spines of several more books. "Well, it'd be a shame if she were to see the more brutal side of a soldier's life. How does that old saying go? Something, pillage, and plunder... oh, I can never remember that first one." He chuckled menacingly as Jarvan felt his face turn red in fury, his teeth gritting in anger.

"If you so much as lay a finger on her." Jarvan seethed, his voice wavered as he struggled to control his rage. "If she doesn't kill you first, I'll rip the black hole of a heart right out of your chest."

"I'll mark that up as 'message received' and leave it at that." The general murmured happily, chuckling as his dark side seemed to evaporate, moving to a side cupboard and pouring a few fingers of a pungent alcohol from a decanter. He returned the crystal stopper to the neck of the crystal bottle and then slid into the strider-suede backed chair. He kicked his feet up and stared at Jarvan openly, challenging the prince to defy him. "Now, unless you have any problems that need be addressed, you can take your friend here and escort her from the premiss."

"Perhaps you'd like to withdraw your dogs from my command then?" Jarvan growled, though some of the anger and menace had drained from his voice. "I do believe Wallace Lee is on your payroll?"

"Now why would you think that?" The general mused as he sipped the pungent liquid.

"I overheard him talking in a pub with another man about you, Jarvan." Quinn said uneasily, frowning. "They talked about controlling you and trying to keep you from meddling in their affair by using Shyvana. At first I thought they were spies, and I started trailing the tall gay guy under your command to see who it was, but I kept coming up with blanks." She glowered. "Turns out he was spying on you for these jerks. I don't know if that's better or worse than some sort of conspiracy."

"So, still going to deny it? Or should I turn Sergeant Lee over to the MPs to be dealt with?" Jarvan said, meeting the general's glare.

"Keep him." The general shrugged. "I'll pull him eventually. For now, do what you want with him."

"Fine." Jarvan grunted. "So was the failed assassination attempt your doing as well?"

Jarvan watched as the general's disposition changed again, his face hardening into a mask of frustration. "No, and that's the most infuriating part. Anything you know about them will be well rewarded."

Jarvan snorted. "What, too hard for you to go out and do a honest days work and get the information yourself?" The prince shook his head in disgust. "Idealism and honor are dead the day monstrosities like you are allowed power."

"Quaint and blind you are, my young prince." The general said with a grin as he tipped some of the liquid into his mouth, savoring the burn as it trickled down his throat. "In this day an age, the man who values idealism over his goals is doomed to fail. You of all people should know that."

Jarvan felt an icy fist clamp down around his heart. "You'll learn in time, general, that if you do nothing but lair among the darkness... the darkness with consume and define you. If you ever get the chance to step into the light, I suggest you take it. It will change the way you look at the world."

"You speak of light and yet you wallow amid the corpses of hundreds." The general said haughtily, his arrogance starting to shift towards anger and resentment. "You think a single mote of flame will change all of that?"

"No, I don't think it will." Jarvan said firmly, meeting the General's gaze and remaining calm, raising his head up to further look down at him. "But that light, that flame, has certainly changed me." The prince brought his head up defiantly, glaring at the general.

"You're a fool." The general snarled, refusing to meet Jarvan's gaze as his fist shook around the short, stout glass of liquor. "Get out. Leave before my patience sees fit to run out." The general strummed his fingers along his glass in an attempt to appear thoughtful, examining the surface of the liquid intently, but the damage had been done. Jarvan was triumphant, no matter how small the victory.

Jarvan started to raise his hand to salute, but Quinn cut him off: "Where is Valor?"

"Who?" The general raised an eyebrow and glanced at the young tracker.

"My eagle." She said, her hand balled into frustrated fists. "Where is he?"

"Ah yes, the Demacian Eagle." The general said nodding, pulling his feet down and setting his glass down on the desk. He opened a drawer and drew out a pad of paper and a pen, scratching out a few lines before ripping the paper from the pad and holding it out for her. "You'll find him here, at this address. We saw to it he got good medical attention."

Quinn looked hesitant to accept the paper, looking at his hand as if it were a viper, finally snatching it away from him. "Thanks." She mumbled quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. The general chuckled as he slipped the pad of paper away and then turned back to Jarvan, as if he was expecting something else. Jarvan glanced back at his escorts, but both were stony faced and glum looking.

"Well, I think we're done here. Farewell, prince. Go forth, drown in your ideals and die." The general chimed, a lightness to his voice that could have belayed the malice, but there was nothing polite or nice about his tone of voice. Hatred and loathing seethed like boiling oil as Jarvan turned away. He glowered as he directed Quinn through the doorway and then followed her, his two escorts following him out. They cleared the bottom of the steps before anyone spoke up.

"I really, really, REALLY don't like him." Delancey hissed as they moved across the open floor of the DemSec command center. "He's kind of an ass."

"Now you see why I got the hell out when I could." The sergeant major grunted.

"Kind of?" Quinn grumbled as she fell into step with Jarvan, eying the soldiers who milled about doing their jobs, though Jarvan did note that many of them made show of doing something but were sneaking glances at he and the others as they swiftly made for the exit. "That bastard kept me either chained up or locked up for the past ten days." She growled, frustration balling her fists up.

"Don't worry." Jarvan growled. "I'll see to it that he gets what's coming for him."

"Your highness?" Delancey started to ask if he was feeling well, but her question died in her throat when she saw the rage on his face.

"He will suffer my fury." Jarvan snarled. "He has faced nothing like me."

The walk through the palace was quiet, Delancey, Quinn and the sergeant major following in the princes wake as he moved through the hallways. Officers and other personnel parted to let the prince pass. He said nothing as he headed for the entrance of the palace, waving soldiers off and ignoring others as they moved. He pushed open the massive doors and stepped out into the evening in front of the palace, looking over city skyline. Jarvan took a deep breath of the cool evening air and then exhaled it slowly, running his good arm over his head and through his hair.

"You going to be alright, Jarvan?" Quinn said hesitantly as she looked up at him, poised at the top of the steps to the path that led towards the gate and Demacia beyond.

Jarvan shrugged with some effort. "Soon as this arm is healed, I will be." The prince said with a cocky grin. "Jormander may be an complete ass, but he sure as hell won't get the better of me."

"Okay..." Quinn said hesitantly, starting down the steps of the palace. Some of Jarvan's confidence brought a smile to her face. "Just let me know if you need a hand. You seem a bit out of your element here." She smiled at him as he rolled his eyes and chuckled softly.

"Yeah, yeah." Jarvan muttered. "What are you going to do now?"

"First, I'm going to find Valor and then take a nice long soak at the inn." Quinn said, her smile growing. "From there, I'm going to enlist."

Jarvan gestured back towards the castle. "If you want I can-..."

"Thanks, but no thanks, Jarvan." Quinn said, smiling at him again. "I told you once before, this is something I want to do on my own." Jarvan watched her for a few moments, her golden eyes shimmering with determination. Jarvan sighed.

"Very well." Jarvan said, nodding once and the waving goodbye. "Take care of yourself."

"Don't worry, I'll be around." Quinn said, waving her hand over her shoulder as she started down the path towards the gates to the palace grounds. "Say 'hi' to Shyvana for me."

"Will do." Jarvan murmured, turning back to castle, his thoughts turning to the dragoness. He took a deep breath and held if for a few moments before he exhaled heavily, fatigue washing over him.

_I hope you're safe, Shy... there are forces out to get us, even among our own._


	23. Chapter 22: Aftermath

The ringing of a thousand church bells devolved into one solid tone, like the whistle of the machine that threatened to explode.

Alicia blinked a few times, pure white filling her vision as the numbness washed over her. She tried to move her fingers, but she couldn't feel anything, much less make her hands move. A sense of dread pooled in her stomach, coalescing into a solid ball of ice that chilled her through and through. A moment of clarity cut through her mind like a dagger, dissolving the haze that had settled around her.

_Am I dead? Is this heaven?_

Something massive and dark cut into the pure, bright white field of emptiness that surrounded her, blacking out a massive section of the world. Alicia blinked a few more times, trying to rid herself of the blurred shape as if it were a living shard of nightmare intruding on her dreams. The darkened mass slowly faded into the silhouette of the a human head and shoulders, hanging above her in the pure white light in her field of her vision. Slowly, she could begin to pick out fluttering hair getting pushed about by the wind, but the face was obscured by the brilliance beyond the lumpen shape.

_But who? Shyvana?_

Alicia frowned as she squinted against the bright light, trying to raise her hand to cover her face. The darkened face moved slowly, the jaw line expanding and shrinking noticeably as if it were trying to speak, but she could hear no words being uttered. As the bright light slowly started to subside, she tried to speak, but when she tried to open her mouth it was completely dry, like a barren wasteland. She worked her jaw for a few moments, trying to form words but there was nothing, no words, no sounds that she could produce. She tried to speak, but she could hear no sound, not her own voice inside her head, nor the sound of the urgent cries that now hurried the shape of the man above her.

There was simply the ringing in her ears.

_It seems death approaches..._

She tried to laugh, but she ended up coughing as pain rippled through her body. She thought she smiled, but she was incapable of producing the of laughter sound, unable to feel anything but pain.

_I cannot speak, I cannot smile, I can only feel pain... What a miserable way to die..._

Darkness began to creep inwards along the corners of her vision, the pure white world around her slowly starting to fade to a dull gray. Hands attached the the shadow reached down towards her, descending upon her like ravens upon a corpse. She closed her eyes and prepared for the worst, for death's caress to finally grasp and embrace her, but where she expected the cold hands of death, there was a surprising warmth. Warmth seemed to begin to spread within her body, the sensation she felt was like experiencing the warmth of the sun after years of winter and darkness. She exhaled softly as she embraced the sensation of fingers pressed against her cheek. Alicia opened her eyes, relishing in the warmth, tears forming as the world slowly started to fade back into focus.

"Alicia!"

The words were warped and shallow, like the sound of the ocean when you hold a shell from the beach to your ear. The world begun to break apart into discernible sounds from the ringing, but at first, all she could hear was the chaos that was starting to unfold. The sound of crying children came first, sending a shiver up and down her spine. Next came the wailing of a siren and the rumble of distant flames that were slowly dying. _The sounds of war... _She glanced around, her neck aching as she turned it slowly, the world still lost amid a puddle mess of blurry whites, grays, and golds. She blinked a few times before she realized that it wasn't some sort of horrid war zone, but rather the golden grass sticking up through melting snowbanks. She looked up, the shadow finally dissolving into a discernible form.

_Vorscham? _

She tried to reach up and touch the face to see if it were real, but pain arced through her arm in along her body.

"ALICIA!"

The words were still distant, but she could hear the fear and pain they contained. Skin darkened by the sun surrounded golden orbs that were wide with terror and fear, long brown locks tousled by wind and stained with sweat and dust. Scars curled along his jaw strong, pointed jawline, though the pain upon his face left the scars looking cruel and twisted as he shouted at her now, urgency driving his face to madness.

_That's funny... I don't think I've ever seen Proudmast look that worried._

Vorscham was holding her shoulders, shaking her now, as feeling started to return to her body.

The first thing she felt was pain.

There was pain everywhere, coursing through her body. "Ow..." She mumbled.

Or at least she thought she said.

Vorscham's mouth moved rapidly as if he were yelling, but Alicia could hear no words. _What? His mouth is moving..._ She furrowed her brow as she looked up at him, still dazed. A moment of frustration passed over his face, but he took a deep breath and raised a hand, gesturing for her to stay put. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." Alicia tried to form the words, but to her, the sound was just a mash of moaning and grunts in her head, the words mixing to form some long, unintelligible string of syllables. She chuckled at her own joke, but a wave of pain flared through her chest and she groaned, grasping at her breastbone. Vorscham pushed himself up from his haunches, and started to turn away.

"Don't go..." Alicia tried to moan, but again her voice failed her. She closed her eyes and tried to move her arm, pain coursing up and down the limb as she reached out towards where his foot had been. She felt her hand bump again something cool and metal. She grabbed it and held on to the armor, holding on despite the pain she felt. Red faded in from the edges of her vision, darkening the sky, tinting it a pale grayish red. She couldn't see what the metal was, but it tried to pull away and she held on.

…

"MEDIC!" Vorscham turned back to where Alicia lay on the ground, her leg twisted at an odd angle, blood pouring from her ears as she grasped at his armored grieve. He watched as her head lolled for a few brief moments and then fell still, her hand falling away from metal boot. Vorscham felt his heart flutter as he dropped towards her, falling to one knee. "Hey, Alicia... Alicia!"

The very thought of losing her left him felling as if someone had slugged him right in the stomach. He turned back towards the column and screamed: "MEDIC!"

Vorscham dropped to his knees and gently pulled the gunnery sergeant into his lap, brushing her mess of white hair from her face as he checked her neck for a pulse. _Thank god._ He breathed a sigh of relief as he looked down at the young woman, her white hair splayed out around her like snow on top of the mud as he cradled her head. He looked back to call for a medic again, but a young female medic slid to the ground next to him, already pulling her satchel over her head and laying it out next to her. The medic's armor was painted with red and white stripes on her arms and shoulders, the pouches across her waist and chest stuffed with various bandages and medicine. She moved nimbly despite the heavy weight she was obviously burdened by. She opened the satchel and started digging around within the bag, pulling out a small, directed lamp light. She pressed the button on the side of the crystalline light source, flashing the light along her thigh to check that it worked.

"I got her, Lieutenant." The young woman said, her green eyes glimmering as she worded, taking hold of Alicia gingerly and lowering her to the ground. Vorscham nodded absentmindedly as he watched the medic go about checking Alicia over quickly, looking for wounds and possible unseen damage. The medic held her eyelids open and flashed the light towards Alicia's pupils, watching as the gunny shied away from it. "Gunny, are you feeling agitated or sick?"

""I feel fine." Alicia growled, trying to swat the light away from her face. "Hurk-..." She promptly rolled to the side and spilled her lunch all over the muddy rut of a carriage path. She sat back and groaned, covering her face with her arm, her head lolling about as she grimaced. "If only the world would stop spinning... everything is so blurry. It's killing my head."

"Nausea and vomiting, dizziness, blurred vision, headaches, agitation, sensitivity to light,.." The medic shook her head as she stowed the lamp back into her satchel. "You've got a bad concussion, gunny. You need to take it easy until we can get you moved to a hospital, it's not something I can treat here."

"I don't need a hospital." Alicia groused, shaking her head in protest. "I need to find my friend." She started to sit up, but her pale face turned green.

"Easy there, June." Vorscham helped her sit up enough to spill the remaining contents of her stomach on the ground before she slumped back, a sour look on her face.

"You've hit your head pretty hard, gunny." The medic said, shaking her head as Alicia continued to struggle halfheartedly. "You need to sit back and rest. You're in no shape to be doing anything other than laying back and resting. Now shut up and sit back before I sedate you. Worse, I get the lieutenant to sedate you." The medic smirked as she regarded the gunny's muttering under her breath, continuing to check over the gunny. When she couldn't find anything else wrong with her, the medic carefully straightened the left leg out and splinted it into position, ignoring the gunny's discomfort and grumbling. She drew a crystalline vial filled with something red from her satchel and cracked the stopper off the top, opening Alicia mouth and holding it to her lips. Alicia gulped it down, her eyes fluttering shut. The medic sat back and watched as a ghostly green glow enfolded the gunny, and then sighed, looking up at Vorscham.

"How is she?" Vorscham asked urgently, looking down at Alicia.

"She'll be fine, Lieutenant." The medic said calmly, offering him a smile, though it didn't seem to comfort him. "She banged her head in the fall, the explosion ruptured her ear drums, as well what looks like a broken leg when she landed on it wrong. She seems to have a pretty bad concussion right now, and while the health potion won't immediately fix that, it will start to deal with the symptoms. It _should_ help hold her over until we can get you to the hospital, and it will stabilize her for now and it'll take the edge off the the pain. Couple days rest and she'll be right as rain."

"Thank god." Vorscham said, breathing another heavy sigh of relief. He looked down at the gunny and snorted, a crooked grin sliding onto his face. _You would be napping on the job._

"You almost look happy I got hurt." Alicia mumbled, her eyes fluttering open as she looked up at the Lieutenant. She raised a hand and started waving it about wildly, her eyes opening wider, but Vorscham kneeled down, reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it slightly.

"Easy now, it's still there." He gently waved her hand in front of her face. "You took quite the fall."

"I feel like hell..." She mumbled, closing her eyes and then grunting as she tried to sit up. The medic shook her head at Vorscham, and he nodded, pushing the gunny gently back down.

"You should stay down and rest, ma'am!" The medic said, panicking slightly, but Alicia glared at the young soldier and shut her up quickly, the medic sitting back on her haunches, astounded as Alicia groaned her way into a sitting position. The medic's frown showed on her face beneath her helm.

"Alicia..." Vorscham growled menacingly, but he could only frown as the gunny finally pushed herself into a sitting position. She looked up at him, her blood red eyes faint but also focused, her face slightly green as she threatened to vomit again. She leaned over and retched a few times, but there was nothing left to spill. She sat up straight and wiped a dribble of bile from her chin, a determined look on her face.

"Where's Shyvana?" Alicia said softly, her voice faint from the pain that played across her face.

"I don't know..." Vorscham looked towards the massive cloud of dust that was settling across the road and spilling into the piled up snow on top of the grass that lined the roadside. Vorscham looked back towards the company of men who had been milling about, and was surprised by massive number of people who had been knocked down. The explosion had scattered the entire column, the massive shock wave sending many of the men crashing down to the ground. Some held their heads and wandered about as if they had burst eardrums, but most of them only had bruises and scrapes from the fall apart from that. He looked back down to Alicia, who had been the closest to the explosion other than Shyvana.

Alicia grabbed his hand and tugged on it gently, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Where. Is. Shyvana."

"We haven't ventured any closer to the site of the explosion than this." Vorscham gestured to where many of the men who were unhurt had begun moving along the road, assisting and ensuring the civilians. There had only been a few stragglers that had been swept back in the last few moments before the accident, but as he looked along the road, there were no other calls for medics going out. "We don't know if it's safe yet, it could explode again."

"There's nothing left." Alicia growled, grimacing against the pain that she obviously felt. "Help me up." Vorscham simply looked at her, surprise clear on his face from the glare that he received from Alicia. He clicked his jaw shut, having not felt it open, and then shook his head. Frowning as she floundered, still trying to push herself up into a sitting position, Alicia's brow creased deeper. "Help me up!"

"Don't be stupid." Vorscham growled, still looking at her as if she were crazy. "You're in no position to..."

"Fine, don't help me." Alicia snarled, anger now contorting her face as she tried to get her hands underneath herself to try and struggle to her feet. "It doesn't matter, I'm still going to find Shyvana." She grunted as she started to get onto one knee. "Stupid... leg..." She muttered under her breath, unable to bend the splinted leg, struggling and floundering as she tried to stand up.

"Ma'am you really shouldn't be moving yet!" The medic protested, but Alicia merely glared at her angrily, causing the medic to slink backwards.

"I'll rest when my friend is safe!" She turned to Vorscham. "Shyvana is out there somewhere, and she's probably hurt! We have to do something!"

Vorscham glanced towards where the dust had started to settle into a deep depression, revealing a massive crater that had been blasted into the ground by the explosion. He felt dread solidify like a ball of pure ice in his stomach, turning back to Alicia. He wore a mask of indifference as he looked down at her, trying to contain the fear he felt as he met her eyes met his. A shiver ran up his spine. _How do I tell her that Shyvana is probably..._

"Don't even say it!" Alicia snarled, her anger shocking even Vorscham, rocking him back on his haunches. "I can tell what you're thinking! I won't believe it until I see the body!" Vorscham glanced away as he scratched his scared remains of his ear, trying to growl angrily, but the noise died in his throat as he sighed in resignation.

"Alicia..." He tried to speak softly, calmly, but there was pain in his voice that he couldn't hide.

"No." Alicia gasped, shaking her head and gritting her teeth against the pain as tears welled in her eyes. "I won't. I refused to believe it until I..." Vorscham shook his head and exhaled heavily.

"Yeah, yeah. Come on." Vorscham dropped to one knee, pulling one of Alicia's arms over his shoulder and then lacing an arm around her waist. "Don't start bitching if it hurts." The medic jumped in front of them, the young woman posting her fists upon her hips, her green eyes flaring in anger.

"Sir, she needs to see a doctor right now." The medic protested, but Vorscham waved her off. "I really think she should be laying down right now. Sir, I'm going to have to log my protests with the commander."

"Do it. Log your damn protests, I'll deal with it." Vorscham snarled, glancing down at Alicia, who's gaze was already scanning the dust cloud, looking for anything she could. He pushed himself up and started to rise, pulling Alicia with him. Pain played over her face, and he could hear her struggling not to whimper and cry out in pain, but she managed to get all the way up. She was leaning heavily on Vorscham for support, grimacing in pain. She was breathing heavily, sweat pouring down her face. "June... maybe you better..."

"I'm fine!" Alicia snapped angrily. She took a step forwards, trying to pull away from Vorscham, but her splinted knee buckled and she headed towards the ground.

"Like hell you are..." Vorscham growled, catching her before she could down to her knees. He glared at her accusingly, a darkened frown sliding onto his face as she looked up at him sheepishly. "You've always been such a hardheaded, selfish little girl, Alicia."

"Proudmast..." She said quietly, blushing slightly as she looked up at him. She couldn't meet his gaze and hold it, glancing away. "Thanks." She murmured softly, though June hoped that Vorscham couldn't hear what she said.

"Let's get you up." Vorscham said, helping her up, noticing that the gunny was blushing furiously. "June?" Vorscham murmured, surprised at her reaction. "Are you feeling alright?" She glanced down at her chest and then back up at Vorscham.

"The least you could do is move you hand!" She wheeled about and slapped Vorscham full on, the Lieutenant starting, his hands jumping away from her body. Alicia sunk to the ground, gasping as her knee gave way and she toppled over, ending up sprawled out on the ground, her face screwed up in pain. Vorscham's face turned a brilliant red as he looked at his hands, to Alicia's chest, and then to her, absently watching as tears ran down her face. "Alicia..." He murmured quietly. He shook his head and then dropped down next to her. "I'm sorry." He hissed nervously, trying to help as she stretched her leg out straight, refusing to meet her gaze as she stared ruefully up at him.

"You should be careful where you put your hands next time." Alicia grumbled, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. She sighed heavily and extended a hand to him. "Just help me up. And watch the hands this time." She glared at him for a moment before she sighed a second time, shaking her head and accepting his help, letting the lieutenant pull her to her feet.

"Come on, let's get back, find a stretcher and get you to the hospital." Vorscham said, starting to turn back towards the column.

"Not yet." Alicia said defiantly, almost begging him not to go. "What about Shyvana? She's somewhere out here!"

"June..." Vorscham said softly, his comforting tone of voice seemingly to surprise even himself. "You should know that it _is_ possible that she might not have made it. That explosion..." His eyes settled on the massive crater that had lifted and pealed part of the road away the peal of an orange, tossing dirt and bits of snow everywhere, clumps of matted grass and ice littered about.

"No..." Alicia clamped her eyes shut and shook her head. "No, no, no..." She looked up at Vorscham, anger burning in her eyes, tears now streaming down her cheeks. "I refuse to even consider that. There is no way she'd let that happen." She shook her head violently, and then tried to push herself away from Vorscham, shivering violently, as if the fear and pain were assaulting her. Vorscham hugged her shoulders gently, and gave her a few brief moments to breath deeply to calm herself. She took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to shake off the pain. "I'm okay." She warded off Vorscham's comment, shaking her head to silence him.

"You sure?" Vorscham said with a frown, watching her carefully. Alicia nodded and then glanced at the ground. She looked back up after a few moments, glancing left and right along the road and the open expanse that was darkened like an endless pit that disappeared into the ground. "Then what are you going to do?"

She cupped a hand around her mouth. "Shyvana! Shyvana, where are you?!"

"God damnit!" Vorscham barked as he twisted his finger about in his ear, frowning and glaring at the white haired gunnery sergeant. "Alicia, next time, don't just shout in my ear. A little warning would be nice." She glared back at him with a piercing, red eyed stare, the Lieutenant shrunk back under her withering glare. He turned towards where the massive dust and smoke cloud was clearing along the road, helping her hobble along.

"Just shut up and start looking, Proudmast!" Alicia growled. She raised her hand back to her mouth. "Shyvana!"

"SHYVANA!" Vorscham bellowed, pausing and waiting quietly to hear if there was any reply.

"Shyvana! If you can hear me, say something!" Alicia howled, pulling Vorscham towards the crater, where the dust and swirl of snow and smoke had settled along the ground.

There was a low rumble off along the far side of the road, across from where the explosion had carved a massive chunk out of the ground. The hole was expansive and it seemed to swallow up all of noise of the fields and the forest beyond. The rumble silenced both Alicia and Vorscham and drew their eyes to where a bank of snow, ice, rocks and mud started to rise up, as if the ground was breathing. It rose and fell slowly, rhythmically, like the breathing of a slumbering beast. Steam leaked from beneath the ice and snow, rising up like a veil of purest white that had fallen from the sky. The snow and mud slowly started to fall away, as purple skin broke through the slurry of grays and browns. Grey armored scales peaked through and Shyvana rose out of the dust and smoke. Her long snout was lifted to the sky, golden eyes dancing about the broken landscape, her eyes lingering on the scar that now marred runeterra. Bubbling with mud and putrid water, the crater was like a festering wound, a pot of boiling desolation. Slowly the purple hide began to tower above the road, and Shyvana slowly glanced around.

"Shyvana..." Alicia breathed, blinking rapidly as she stared up at the dragon. She had never been so close, and she had never realized just how large Shyvana was when she was a dragon. The golden eyes tracked down onto her and she immediately gasped, audibly swallowing as she looked up and met the piercing golden eyes, perfect black diamonds gleaming back at her. "The Yordle... is he..." Shyvana looked around, her eyes playing over the craters and the boiling water that was slowly cooling off. She could see the shimmer of sky off of something around the edges of the craters, exhaling sharply as she looked over how sand in the dirt and mud had superheated and fused together in a ring of glass. The glass shattered suddenly, causing the gunny to start. She shook her head slightly and then she looked up to dragoness.

Shyvana viewed her with disregard and she grunted, expelling a cloud of steam as she exhaled. She lowered her head down towards the ground and then opened it, letting the little yellow Yordle roll off her tongue. The Yordle coughed and spluttered as he sat up, gasping for breath, wiping the dragon saliva from his jacket and his hair. He cast it along the ground, the thick mucous splattering along the mud noisily. He glanced up at the dragon with a mix of anger and confusion on his face, as if he wanted to both scold her and thank her at the same time.

"You could have at the very least _tried_ not to drool on me." He muttered as he pushed himself up, continuing to wipe the sticky saliva from his clothes. He took his goggles off and cleaned the saliva from the surface of the lenses, holding them up to the gray sky to peer through them. He sighed and then looked back up, seating them on his face. "Thank you, though. I don't think I would have survived if it were not for you." Shyvana said nothing, simply grunting and nodding, her head wavering slightly, swinging from side to side. Her mane of ruby red hair quivered slightly as she exhaled slowly.

"Shyvana?" Alicia said slowly, watching as the dragon's eyes slowly rolled back into her head. She collapsed, the rumble from her body bouncing Heimerdinger off his feet as she hit the ground. "Shyvana!" Alicia screamed, rushing to her side.

"My word!" Heimerdinger gasped as dust billowed up around Shyvana, her chest rising and falling slowly. "Shyvana, my dear, are you alright?" He adjusted the goggles he wore and fiddled with them for a second, finally retracting them in frustration.

"I'm glad you're alright... Cecil..." Shyvana sighed softly, as if she were winded, the rumble of her voice causing the others to take a step back in surprise. "I think I'm just going to take a nap now." She glanced at Alicia and then she sighed heavily, as if in relief. "Alicia... I screwed up..." Her diamond pupils widened slightly and then narrowed, her eyes fluttering shut. Her chest rose and fell once and then she quivered again, her mane shaking and then falling still.

"Shyvana, what's wrong?" Alicia dropped down next to the dragoness, her hands hesitating a few inches above the leathery skin. She could feel the heat that rose from the dragon's body but she eyed the armored scales with trepidation. She touched the dragon gingerly, surprised at how warm and soft the leathery flesh felt. She ran her hand over the scales, expecting them to be cold and detached like the armor Demacian soldiers wore, but she exhaled softly when it was nothing of the sort. It was smooth and dry, almost like polished stone that had been warmed by the sun. Alicia pressed her hands against the skin, and then leaned her head against the flesh, listening to the faint heart beat within.

"Wait a moment..." Heimerdinger said, frowning. "What are you..."

"She's weak..." Alicia said, standing up and looking over the flesh of the dragon. She leaned heavily as she hobbled along around Shyvana. "Something's wrong..."

"How strange..." Heimerdinger murmured as he stepped closer, musing to himself. "I've never met a dragon before. Where do you hail from, young one?"

"My mother was from Demacia..." Shyvana rumbled, shifting slightly, breathing a labored sigh. "My father... he hailed from many places. I suppose you could say he was from Kalamanda."

"Kalamanda?" Heimerdigner mused, a look of surprise crossing his face. "I was headed there in service of the League. My machine was needed there for..." His face paled as he looked down her body. Sticking out of her side was a massive chuck of steel, lodged deep in her soft underbelly. "Oh my."

"What?" Alicia stammered, pushing herself up, stumbling slightly as she hobbled around to Shyvana's snout. Her hands went to her mouth, covering her grief as she gasped in terror. "Oh... gods..."

"I... uh..." Heimerdinger's voice was faint as he glanced around hurriedly. "Ahh!" He started again as fire swirled around the dragoness for a brief moment, her body starting to slowly shrink. The leathery purple hide began to pale and the mane of reddish hair lengthened atop her head, flowing around her as the pale human form of Shyvana was left lying on the ground, her side gashed badly, jagged metal protruding from her hip to the bottom of her rib cage. She lay in a pool of blood, her breathing labored and short.

"By jove..." Heimer murmured softly, blinking rapidly. "I've never seen anything like that before."

"Shyvana..." Alicia murmured, moving closer to the bare dragoness, her eyes wide in terror. She dropped to her hands and knees, pulling her wounded leg closer, wincing in pain. Her hands again hovered just above Shyvana's skin, but as she went to touch her, Vorscham grabbed her shoulder.

"It hurts." Shyvana groaned, shifting slightly.

"Stop moving." Vorscham growled, shaking his head. He kneeled down, starting to reach out towards the dragoness, but he clenched his fist, shaking it slightly. "Your wounds are bad, Shyvana. You mustn't make them worse." He turned and looked for the medic who had attended to Alicia. "MEDIC!" The medic's head came up and she started, but when she saw the Lieutenant, she nodded and patted the young man she was attending, getting to her feet. She jogged over, looking to the lieutenant, who directed her to Shyvana.

"The dragoness?" The medic blinked a few times, looking up to Vorscham and then back down to the dragoness. Her hair surrounded her body like a pool of blood, though the blood that spilled from her body had darkened quickly. "Why is she naked?"

"What?" Alicia shook her head, gesturing to her side. "The wound! She's badly hurt!"

"Right, right." The medic groused, pulling her satchel over her head. She carefully rolled Shyvana over and then blanked. "I... I can't treat this... this is... I..."

"Stabilize her then!" Alicia snarled. "Something! Anything!"

"Then shut up and let me do my damned job!" The medic snapped at Alicia. She pulled off her white and red painted helm and tossed it aside, her auburn locks spilling over her armor, her green eyes burning with anger. Alicia nodded quietly, slinking back as the medic set about her work. "I'll stabilize her as best I can, and then go for help."

"For what, Yordle?" Vorscham said, growling slightly.

"W-what?" Heimerdinger looked torn as he glanced about nervously. "Oh!" He gasped, eying the gleaming steel that settled against his neck. "What is the meaning of this?" He protested, trying to push the blade away.

"The lover of one of my best friends is currently laying on the ground, bleeding out because she tried to save your tiny fucking hide." Vorscham growled as menacingly as he could, nudging the Yordle's neck with the blade again. "You either tell me what exactly you were doing here, or I will execute you as a war criminal in the name of Demacia."

"You would risk all out war with both Bandle City and Piltover?" Heimerdinger breathed, his eyes wide with fear. Vorscham growled, his brow darkening, causing the Yordle to tremble with fear. Heimerdinger glanced away. "I... I cannot say..."

"You _will_ say, or I will slit your damned throat!" Vorscham bellowed.

"Fine!" Heimerdinger said, dropping to his knees and sighing heavily. "I was to build a machine that could drain mana from crystal! I know not what they needed it for, but I was commissioned by the League! Demacia was the best place to test it but something... something went wrong! When I passed through the gates, the machine reacted to it!" The Yordle pounded a fist upon the ground, struggling to calm his tongue and catch his breath. "But that wasn't supposed to happen! I checked my calculations so many times and yet..."

"Enough of your babbling!" Vorscham growled. "The prince will wish to hear of this." He looked to Shyvana as he sheathed his sword, the steel ringing menacingly. "If he does not kill you first, for the harm that has come to his love."


	24. Chapter 23: Summons

"Allow me, sir." Delancey said, imposing herself in front of the prince and opening the door slowly peering inside. She held her hand out to get Jarvan to hold position and then gestured for the Sergeant Major to keep eyes on Jarvan. The older officer glared at her for a moment and then nodded, his hand hovering over the single large knife on his belt. Delancey moved through the door swiftly, creeping like a cat, sweeping left and right across the room, checking all of the empty offices off of the central area, and then nodded to herself when she was confident all the adjacent rooms were clear. She cast a quick glance as Valentine Isaacs who had stood up, a confused look upon her face, nodding once to reassure the young brunette that everything was under control.

"Where's prince Jarvan?" Valentine asked nervously, her eyes following Delancey as she scanned the room again, a determined look on her face.

"One moment, Ms. Isaacs." Delancey said with a frown. She pulled the small ring-box and pressed the button on top of it, letting it scan the room and then report back that it was all clear before she nodded to herself again. "He's on his way in now." Delancey said confidently. She hesitated a moment before she headed towards the door, turning and looking at Lee. He met her gaze for a few brief moments before she exhaled sharply, casting him a withering glare before she turned away in disgust, moving back to the door.

"What was that all about?" Lee growled, his gaze following after her as she stepped out of the door again. Valentine looked at him and shrugged, surprise and confusion still on her face.

"All clear, sir." Delancey announced, saluting to Jarvan and then stepping to the far side of the door, gesturing for him to proceed and enter. Jarvan frowned and glowered, but entered the room.

"Is there a reason for all of the increased security?" Jarvan muttered, glancing back over his shoulder as Delancey and the sergeant major moved into the office, the former glancing both left and right along the hallways before closing the door. Jarvan shook his head as he stepped away from the door. He paused, looking at Lee for a few moments before he continued deeper into the room, headed directly towards his office.

"Sir if you have a moment..." Valentine said nervously, reading the anger on Jarvan's face with trepidation.

"Not now." Jarvan growled.

She blushed slightly and then glanced at the ground and then looked up at him, distress sliding onto her face and into her voice. "Sir, this is something you really should..."

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!" Jarvan snarled, wheeling about to face her. He met her green-eyed stare for a moments, suddenly seeing his reflection in his old lieutenant's eyes. He had often looked at Valin with anger, but the old man had just snapped back with a quip or a retort that promptly shut the prince up. He stared at himself in her green eyes, his face contorted in rage, surprise clear on her face as she blinked a few times and took a half step back in fear. She clasped her hands in front of her and the prince could see them start to quiver. He snarled in disgust at himself and shook his head, turning away and pushing past her towards his office.

"Sir, you really shouldn't take your temper out on Valentine." Lee said derisively, watching the prince with a dark frown.

Jarvan wheeled about, unbridled rage now clear on his face as he met Lee's scathing gaze. "I don't need a fucking spy to tell me what to do or say to my staff." Jarvan growled menacingly. "You, my office, _now._ Don't say a fucking word."

Lee opened his mouth in a mix of astonishment and outrage, but he snapped it shut and stomped past Jarvan into the office wordlessly. Jarvan sighed, growling under his breath as he exhaled. He glanced at the sergeant major and then Delancey in turn, a mix of frustration and surprise on their faces as they watched him. Jarvan cast a fleeting glance at Valentine, her lower lip quivering as she stared at the floor, refusing to meet his gaze. Jarvan snarled as he turned towards the door, shaking his head and then slamming the door behind him, shaking the wall hangings as dust rained from the stone ceiling.

"What was that?" The sergeant major growled, shaking his head. "I thought he was a bit more level headed than that."

"He usually is." Delancey said, frowning as she moved towards her desk. She dropped into her seat and ran her hands over her face in frustration and exhaustion. "I don't think I've ever seen him explode like that before."

"Is the prince alright?" Valentine said nervously, leaning on the edge of her desk as she wiped at her eyes.

"Yes and no." Delancey muttered as she started pulling some of the weapons from her belt and putting them away in one of the drawers in her desk. "We ran into a bit of trouble this afternoon with a Security Brigade officer who is drunk off power and seeking to get his neck snapped by the prince or the dragoness. Unfortunately, he's got enough power that he can try and take advantage of Jarvan."

"Can't the prince just order him not to?" Valentine said with a confused frown replacing some of the pain. Delancey offered her a sad smile, reading the worry on her face.

"Not in this situation." Delancey shook her head and sighed, slamming the drawer shut and then pushing herself up onto the desk, kicking her feet out as she looked up at the ceiling. "The Commandant of Demsec wields a lot of very real power. He's also batty as the Shadow Isles and he's decided that the best way to attack Jarvan was through Shyvana."

"What did he do?" Valentine whispered, her eyes wide as she covered her mouth with her hand. She looked to Delancey, but she shrugged and shook her head, pulling out a knife and a sharpening stone, making a big deal out of sharpening the knife to distract herself, suddenly falling completely silent.

"The fucker threatened to have the dragon-girl raped." The sergeant major grunted angrily as he shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk, shaking his head in disgust.

"That's horrifying!" Valentine gasped.

"Now you know why he's in such a piss-poor mood." The sergeant major said with a shrug. "I won't defend him for being a complete ass, but he is under a lot of stress right now."

"I understand." Valentine said sadly, sighing as she glanced down with a nostalgic smile on her face. "I feel bad for him. He was always like this back when he had an important mission. I only met him a few times back then when I went to visit my father, but the prince was always angry. Father said it was his way of worrying about his men."

The sergeant major snorted and rolled his eyes. "Young lady, you are a much better human being than I." The sergeant major shrugged as he set the papers down, his eyes running over several lines of ink on parchment from the stack he had held onto. "I woulda just slugged him and told him to stop being such a fucking pussy."

Delancey shook her head as she laughed, struggling to keep a serious expression. "Jesus, sarge, you really don't tone it down at any point, do you?"

"And make life easier on you little shits?" The silver haired sergeant major gave Delancey a thin grin as his dark eyes sparkled mischievously. "Life would be too damn easy that way."

"Yeah, yeah." Delancey waved him off as she crossed one leg over the other, looking around the room. A bout of shouting coming from the inner office could be heard as silence descended upon the room. "They... they're really going at it, aren't they?" She shook her head and leaned heavily on her arm, cheek in palm, resting her elbow on her knee as she watched the door as if it were about to get shouted off its hinges.

"Should we stop them?" Valentine said, nervously, glancing at the door as more shouting came from within.

"Fuck 'em." The sergeant major grunted as he pulled a metal hip flask from his desk. He unstopped the top of the bottle and took a swig, tipping the flask back, wiping his mouth and sighing heavily as he dropped the flask from his lips. He corked it again and slid it into a pocket on his uniform jacket, straightening his tunic. He glanced at Delancey who had been watching him with a raised eyebrow and a exhausted expression. "What?" He growled, turning away.

"Isn't it a little early to be drinking?" Delancey said, with a slightly amused grin. She looked up at the clock that hung on the wall and then looked back to the sergeant major who was now concerning himself with adjusting the contents of his desk top. "It's not even five o'clock."

The sergeant major shrugged, taking the flask out and looking at it thoughtfully for a few moments. He frowned and set the flask on his desk, grumbling as he scratched the back of his head. "Shit, if I've got to listen to more of this then I'm going to need something stronger."

Valentine giggled, smiling softly as she looked at the sergeant major. "That sounds like something my father would have said."

"Hey now..." The sergeant major said, raising his hands in front of him defensively. "I fucking _know_ I haven't had anywhere near enough to try and deal with that sort of thing, young lady." He blushed slightly, turning away, running his hand over his short cropped silver hair along the back of his head.

Delancey laughed aloud. "Bashful?" She grinned triumphantly. "That's not an emotion I ever expected to see from you, sarge."

"Shut yer fucking mouth." The sergeant major growled, shaking his head. "She's young enough to be my granddaughter. You make a single joke about it and mark my words, Delancey, and I will wring your damned neck till they stick you in a cell and mail you to the fucking zoo as a giraffe."

Delancey raised her hands in submission, wearing a ironic grin. "Yeah, yeah, no jokes." She glanced towards the doorway as her smile faded. "It's gotten strangely quiet. You think one of them killed the other?"

"I hope not." The sergeant major growled. "More fucking paperwork if they did." He shook his head as he dropped himself into his chair, setting about the already considerable stack of paperwork.

"Um, Sergeant Major?" Valentine said nervously, blushing slightly as she looked over at him. The sergeant major's shoulders tensed up slightly as he looked over at her, a strange expression on his face. "I-if you like, I can help you with your paperwork." She wrung her hands in front of herself. "I've finished all of mine for the moment."

A moment of silence followed.

"Okay this is just fucking killing me." Delancey said, a grin breaking out on her face. "Just call him 'grandpa' already! I'll gladly take the beating just to see his face." Delancey chuckled to herself but then the unexpected happened.

"G-g-grandpa..." Valentine's face burned a bright red as she closed her eyes and waited for the worst.

"Oh. My. God." Delancey watched as the sergeant major's face burned a similar shade of red, her mouth hanging open. She burst into laughter, red int eh face and gasping for breath. She fell from her chair and held her stomach. "I think... I can die ...and go to... heaven after... seeing _that."_ Delancey spoke in broken English in between pants for breath.

"Delancey..." The sergeant major's face was hidden by the shadow of the silhouette of the lamp on his desk, though his face had turned a decided more violent, angry shade of red. His hands trembled in anger and a blood vessel threatened to burst on his forehead. "I am going to fucking kill you." The was a single second of ringing steel and then there was only the heavy thunk followed by the waggle of a knife buried deep into something.

Delancey opened her eyes, wiping a tear away and came eye to eye with her reflection in the sergeant major's combat knife, the steel buried nearly up to the haft in the side of her desk. The sergeant screamed and sunk down, back onto the floor, her eyes wide in fear, the laughter now just a painful memory in her gut as it ached. The sergeant major stood over her, cracking his neck, staring down at her menacingly.

"Something to say, _sergeant_?" He growled menacingly.

"N-n-no, sarge!" Delancey stammered, sweat pouring down her face in fear. The sergeant major kneeled down and jerked the knife from the desk, dragging the heavy wooden piece of furniture forward a few inches. His brow darkened slightly and Delaney gulped audibly. "No, Sergeant Major!"

"Good." The sergeant major sheathed the knife in a single fluid motion, pausing to stare down at Delancey. "It'd be a shame if I had to miss again."

The shock of the revelation caused Delancey's eyes to widen again. "You mean..." The blinked a few times, her face paling. A single glance from the sergeant major quelled her words as she snapped her mouth shut.

"Here, sergeant." Valentine said, offering to help Delancey up. The sergeant accepted her help, though she kept a wary eye on the sergeant major as he returned to his desk as if nothing had happened. Delancey sighed explosively, clutching at her heart in mock fear. Valentine giggled slightly and that brought a weak smile back to the sergeant's face.

"Oh!" Delancey said, as if she had just realized she had something to say. "What did you need to tell Prince Jarvan, Valentine?"

The secretary covered her mouth with her hands, her green eyes wide with surprise. "I completely forgot!" She dashed to her desk and dug around in the paperwork, drawing out a scrap of paper, her eyes flying over it breifly. "You remember that incident that happen on the East road this morning just before noon?"

Delancey's brow creased as she pushed herself up and sat on her desk and looked at Valentine with a frown. "No, what happened?"

Valentine looked shocked that Delancey hadn't heard the news, but shook her head, a worried expression again befalling her green eyes. "There aren't many details yet, but something exploded just outside the eastern gates... Shyvana was wounded and is in the hospital right now."

"What!?" Delancey barked, toppling off her desk in surprise. She shook her head as she pulled herself up from the floor, rubbing her head. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know." Valentine said nervously. "A Lieutenant... _Vorscham_ stopped by and asked for the prince, stating that he urgently needed to speak with him directly. When I told the lieutenant that Prince Jarvan wasn't here, the lieutenant asked that I pass on the fact that she was in the ICU."

"God damnit." Delancey said, shaking her head. She looked to the sergeant major who sighed but nodded. "We better let him know. He's going to be fucking pissed."

* * *

Jarvan closed the door behind himself, stepped around Lee and then moved to his desk. He paused in front of it, his eyes dancing over the assortment of papers and small nicknacks that littered it, but he finally sighed, shaking his head. He move around to his chair and slumped down in it triedly, grunting in pain as he landed on his arm wrong.

"How is your arm, sir?" Lee said formally, his eyes straight ahead, over the top of Jarvan's head and locked on something out the massive windows behind the prince. Jarvan grunted as he undid the knot that held the sling around his neck and pulled the cloth free, moving his arm about gingerly.

"My arm is of no concern to you right now." Jarvan growled, moving it about to check its range of motion discreetly. Though extending it to some of the extremes caused the prince to wince, he seemed satisfied. He sat back in his chair as he slid it forward and glared at Lee, steepling his fingers together as he leaned on his desk. "My concern at the moment would be you, sergeant."

"Sir, if I did something to anger you..." Lee started to say, but his voice faded out when he noticed Jarvan's molten glare. The prince sat back in his chair heavily, gently massaging the wound with one hand while he worked the arm about.

"I'll give you a chance to come clean about why you're here." Jarvan grimaced as he stretched the arm a bit too far. He sighed and then sat up, looking over his desk. He pulled a pen from the bottle of ink that sat on the corner of his desk and drew the top sheet of parchment from the stack that had been left for him to sign.

"Sir, you asked—ordered me in here, sir." Lee said, a moment of confusing playing over his face. "I'm not sure I understand the question, Lieutenant Colonel."

Jarvan did not look up from where he was reading over the document, his eyes dancing left and right over the paper before he finally signed the piece of paper and started a new stack next to the one he had drawn the sheet from. Jarvan sighed heavily, returning the pen to the bottle of ink, leaning heavily on his desk as he ran a hand over his face, massaging his eyelids as he breathed heavily for several moments. "Sergeant Wallace Lee, you graduated at the top of your class at the Demacian Martial Academy and you did time at the Demacian Arcane Academy as well, earning your Combat Magician's Certification, though you _rarely_ use said magic according to record. You received top marks from all of your instructors there. You have next to no personal history, and you're more ghost than guard. Now, explain to me why it is you're working as a bodyguard and aide to a lowly lieutenant colonel." Jarvan's voice was even and quiet, but there was a hint of menace that hurried his words just enough to clue Lee in to how much the prince was struggling to control his temper.

Lee's brow furrowed slightly, his eyes flickering down to the prince and then back up to continue staring out the window at a rigid state of attention. "Sir, I hardly think you a low-..."

"You can drop the act, sergeant." Jarvan said, running his hand over his face. "Perhaps if you're straight with me now, we can avoid a very difficult working relationship in the future." Jarvan's voice was growing slightly more agitated.

Lee's frown darkened for a moment, but his head came up and he shook it. "Sir, I don't know what you're-..."

"You may take me as a fool, and a fool I may be, but I swear, Sergeant Wallace Lee, if you don't start talking, your commanding officer is going to have to pry you out of my trashcan with a crowbar." Jarvan's threat was low and menacing, but Lee breathed a short sigh before he again stood up straight and stared straight ahead, as if it didn't phase him in the slightest.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, sir." Lee replied formerly, his voice stiffer than before. "You are my commanding officer, sir."

"CUT THE BULLSHIT!" Jarvan snarled, slapping both hands down on the desk and bouncing everything on the desktop. Papers fluttered to the ground, ink leaked from the spilled jar, the single photograph that was framed on his desk lay face down. He pushed himself up, meeting Lee eye to eye, forcing the Sergeant to stare straight at him. "I know you're with Demsec, Lee." Jarvan growled menacingly as he moved back around the desk, looking at Lee's profile as sweat formed on the man's brow. "I had a nice little chitchat with the commandant about an hour ago. How do you think that went?"

"I'm not familiar with the commandant of the Demacian Security Brigade, sir." Lee said, the formality in his voice faltering.

"I have eye witnesses who could put you away for years with charges of treason!" Jarvan snarled, watching as Lee didn't so much as flinch as the prince paced around him like a dire wolf stalking its prey. "Said eyewitness is a trusted friend, and Lee, I'm inclined to believe her when it comes to matters of this sort." Jarvan took a deep breath before he continued, his tone filled with menace despite its even and metered words. "However, she was captured by Demsec, and held there unlawfully. When it came to my attention, I went to have her freed. Do you know what I ended up walking into when I did?"

"No, sir." Lee said stiffly.

"I walked into a nice, elaborate set up designed to bring me to heel like a dog." Jarvan's voice was now shaking with fury, his white-knuckled hands held behind his back, though every timed he turned away from Lee, his hands could be seen quivering with anger. "I, being my stubborn self, refused to play the bitch to General Jormander. He threatened me. I did not take kindly to this and promptly informed him about _what_ threatening me and my friends carried, being the crown prince of Demacia." Jarvan chuckled, though the sound lacked its normal warmth or even the very essence of humor. Jarvan stood mere inches from Lee now. "Now, he holds threat of treason over my head, and the life of my loved ones hang in the balance with threat of even worse." Jarvan stepped in front of Lee, his face now bare millimeters from Lee's face. "He threatened to have her beaten and raped, by his command, by his men, if I did not bend to his will. Now, Sergeant Lee, if you would like to explain to me just what the fuck you are doing here, I may spare you the mercy of beating the ever-loving-shit out of you!" Jarvan stepped back, waiting silently, his face contorted in a mask of anger and displeasure.

Lee sighed, dropping his eyes to the floor. "Our intentions were never to threaten you or Shyvana with bodily harm, sir." Lee shook his head in mock disgust.

"Well you and your confederates already did." Jarvan snarled. "So pardon me if I'm not exactly feeling accepting of apologies right now."

"Yes sir." Lee said, a haggard look dropping over him like a veil. "Like I said, it was never our intention. My original assignment was to observe and work with you while monitoring your mental state to try and judge whether you were even mentally competent after your time spent outside of Demacia. I was under orders to gain and maintain your trust while ensuring your safety. I was also to keep you from getting involved with other ongoing investigations that were being undertaken by Demsec."

"So what, I got to close to one of your commander's little witch-hunts?" Jarvan sneered, though some of the menace had faded.

"It actually found you first, sir." Lee said, blowing air out of his nose in an unimpressed shrug. "We're constantly running counter-surveillance and counter-terrorism operations in Demacia, and I was working on an ongoing case regarding a group of assailants who had been working in Demacia for a period of time now. When you turned up and started poking around, it seems their time table was pushed forward and they started making mistakes. I was assigned to you as insurance, mostly to ensure you weren't working with them or had lost your... ah, _Demacian pride _somewhere in the wastes."

"And?" Jarvan growled.

"We weren't sure at first, but the attempt on the life of you and your _consort_ confirmed our suspicions. Unfortunately, the tracker girl, Quinn? She was already suspicious of me." Lee shrugged. "When I intervened with the mage who was casting what we expect to be dream-manipulation spells on you that evening, your friend assaulted me, thinking she was protecting you. Confusion ensued, the mage died, your friend was captured and you were injured when you took the crossbow bolt that was aimed at the dragon."

"Hold on, you say that the bolt was aimed at Shyvana?" Jarvan said, stopping his pacing, a confused look on his face.

"Yes sir." Lee said, nodding. "At first we weren't sure, but I believe it wasn't meant to kill you, rather, to dispose of the dragon, Shyvana, to facilitate something in the future. However, you jumped in front of it like an idiot instead of simply knocking her out of the way." A flicker of a smile played across Lee's lips. "Quite chivalrous of you, by the way, taking the bolt rather than inflicting bodily harm on her."

"But what does that have to do with you being here, under my command?" Jarvan said, shaking his head. "What does any of that have to do with Shyvana?"

Lee glanced at the floor for a moment, his body slackening slightly before he straightened up and snapped to attention again. "That was my fault, sir." Lee barked. "I originally suggested that she, Shyvana, would be the key to controlling you here in Demacia. You were losing sleep and were mentally distressed by the separation from her, and it was causing your actions to become erratic and dangerous. I suggested that we reunite the two of you and let you concern yourselves with each other rather than intrude upon Demsec business, but obviously my suggestion was completely ignored." There was a hint of anger in his voice as Lee shook his head.

Jarvan grabbed Lee by his collar and pulled him close, taking the man by surprise. Lee grabbed at Jarvan's wrists, but Jarvan had already hauled the man off his feet as if it were nothing, his face contorted with anger. "Are you saying you put Shyvana in this position!?" Jarvan roared, shaking the man. Lee's face was turning red as he struggled against the prince. "If anything happens to her, Wallace..."

"It was never my intention!" Lee gasped, wheezing against the prince's hold on his collar. Jarvan snarled in disgust but dropped the sergeant, sending him sprawling to the ground. Lee coughed, running his hand along his neck as he caught his breath. He looked up, watching as Jarvan leaned heavily on his desk, holding his injured shoulder, his breathing surprisingly ragged considering he had just lifted Lee, who was easily his equal in height and weight, directly off his feet. "I honestly didn't think they would threaten her like this, Jarvan..." Lee said, his voice still slightly strained as he stood up, straightening his tunic and fixing his collar. "I told them it was bad idea to continue to hold her against you, but they obviously didn't listen." Lee straightened his tunic and then fell in at attention again. "I would like to formally apologize for all of this, sir!"

"I want you to know, that if they do anything to Shyvana... if so much as a single hair on her head is harmed, I am going to personally hunt you down and beat you within an inch of your life." Jarvan growled, his voice dripping with menace and hatred. "I will then have first aid administered to you so I can continue beating you until you have sufficiently suffered ten time the pain and humiliation she faces. Am I clear?"

"Sir." Lee said stiffly.

"I asked you a fucking question, sergeant!" Jarvan snarled.

"SIR, YES SIR!" Lee barked.

"Now get out of my office." Jarvan muttered, moving towards his chair behind his desk. He slumped down in it, a myriad of emotions playing over his face as he stared at the desk top, his hands gripping the edge of the desk as if it had been the one to threaten the life of his loved one.

"Sir?" Confusion marred Lee as he stopped his salute half way through. "I'm not discharged from the unit?"

Jarvan looked up at him, a frown on his face as the prince sighed and shook his head. "I'd rather deal with the spy I know about, rather than having Jormander trying to sneak another in." Pain played across the prince's face as he pushed himself up in his chair. He ran a hand over his face. "Just get out of my office before I decide _against_ my decision."

"Sir!" Lee barked, saluting and moving to the door. He opened it and came face to face with Valentine and Delancey, both of which looked worried as they stood at the door, waiting. Lee glanced at both of them and then pushed past. Delancey looked back at him with a mix of surprise and anger playing on her face, but she turned back to Jarvan, worry overriding the anger.

"I'm not really in the mood, Del." Jarvan muttered, running a hand over his face. "What is it?"

"Something you're really going to want to hear, sir." Delancey said hesitantly, looking at the contents of the top of his desk and how they had been disrupted. She opened her mouth, her jaw working slowly, but she shut it after a few moments, looking at Valentine. The young Isaacs girl looked genuinely worried about the prince, surprise on her face as she looked over the desk.

"Sir, are you alright?" She whispered, taking a step inside the office and looking around, as if she expected the entire office to be destroyed. She breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't see anything, but she still had a worried look on her face.

"Yeah... I suppose so." Jarvan said, running a hand over his head as he tried to smooth out his disheveled hair. "What do you want?"

"Well..." Delancey said, still looking at the desk, but she shook her head and looked to Valentine and then back to the prince.

Valentine wrung her hands in front of her, staring at the floor, only daring once to look up at him, immediately dropping her gaze back to the floor. "Jarvan, it's Shyvana."

The prince blinked a few times and sat up, anger crossing his face. "What happened?"

"I don't know much, sir." Valentine shook her head nervously. "There was a Lieutenant Vorscham here looking for your earlier, sir. He needed to speak with you urgently about something."

"Vorscham needed to talk to me?" Jarvan sat back frowning. "But what about..."

"Shyvana was wounded in an accident earlier this morning, sir." Valentine said, grabbing her arm nervously. "He said the wound was bad and she was going to be in the Intensive Care Unit for the rest of the day."

"WHAT!?" Jarvan leaped to his feet, knocking his chair over, practically sending it skittering across the floor. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Jarvan balked, still to stunned to move.

"Well..." Valentine stared at the floor.

"You kinda chewed her out for simply talking to you." Delancey said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I..." Jarvan shook his head as he moved around the desk, urgency hurrying his paces. He paused next to his green eyed secretary, looking down at her as she stared up at him. He sighed and then shook his head. "I'm sorry, Valentine."

"It's fine sir." The young Isaacs said, blushing slightly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"If you ever need, just tell me to shut up, alright?" Jarvan said with a worried smile on his face. Valentine nodded. He patted her once on the shoulder as he moved past, grabbing his overcoat from the rack that hung just inside his office door. "Which hospital did he take her to?"

"She was moved to the Medical School at the Academy, sir." Valentine frowned slightly. "The wound was apparently magically disturbed... or something." Valentine shook her head, indicating that was all she knew. "Vorscham didn't say anything else, only asking I pass it on when you returned." Jarvan's frown darkened as he spat a silent curse. He nodded once.

"Thanks, Val." Jarvan turned, gesturing for Delancey to get ready. "Come on, Del, we're going."

"Sir." Delancey said, saluting as she bounced out of his office to fetch her jacket. She reappeared a few moments later, her hat perched upon her head as she tugged on her jacket, the pockets overflowing with weapons as she buttoned the uniform jacket. She began stowing knives in various places, finally standing up straight and saluting again. "Ready to go, sir."

"Good." Jarvan nodded once, his massive strides carrying to the door. Jarvan turned and cast a glance at Lee, but he didn't let his face betray any of his emotions. _If you had anything to do with this..._ He shook his head and paused at the door. "Sergeant Major."

"Sir!" Perrywinkle barked, snapping to attention.

"You're in control here for now." He turned back to the open doors to his office. "If anyone needs me, give them the run around. I don't want to be disturbed."

The sergeant major grinned and nodded. "I'll keep em busy, sir."

"Good." Jarvan grabbed the door handle and pulled it open, freezing as he came face to face with a courier, the man's hand frozen just above where the door had been, as if he had been about to knock. "Out of my way, corporal." Jarvan growled, eying the young soldier's rank tabs and the crossed swords on his unit patch of the Royal Guard. "Speak with the sergeant major if you need something."

The corporal saluted, but he did not move from in front of the doorway. "The king requests your presence at once, sire." The corporal said, nearly choking on his own voice. "He says you are to come to the throne room at once."

Jarvan snarled angrily, but the sound died in his throat before he could make it as menacing as he wanted. "I don't have time." Jarvan shook his head. "Tell my father that I shall deal with it later. Now move."

"Sir, I was to inform you that the king would not accept any delays in this matter." The courier blushed nervously, but he stood up straighter and tried to look braver than his quivering knees would imply. "There is going to be an official announcement regarding something, and the king specifically requested I fetch you at once."

"Or what?" Jarvan growled, puffing out his chest slightly to look more imposing.

"Sir..." The courier started nervously. "I-..."

"Prince Jarvan!" The voice send a shiver down the prince's spine. He stepped into the hallway, looking left, setting his jaw as his brow furrowed in anger.

"General Jormander." Jarvan muttered through gritted teeth. "What a... _surprise._"

"Thank you, corporal." The general said, returning the young man's salute. "That will be all, I can take care of it from here."

"Yes, sir." The corporal said, saluting again quickly before he turned and scampered away. Jormander turned to Jarvan and let a thin smile play over his lips.

"You received the king's summons as well?" Jormander said, waiting till the prince nodded stiffly. There was a smile on the general's face, though it was serpentine and cold. " Good, good! I was just on my way there now, and I happened to be passing by. Perhaps you'd accompany me?"

_Funny, this office is completely out of the way for you. _Jarvan glanced back into his officer at Lee. He was working at his desk, completely and purposefully ignoring the exchange. _Damn you. _Jarvan turned and straightened his tunic, sighing. _I'll be there as soon as I can, Shyvana._

"It would be my pleasure." Jarvan growled with some effort, forcing a smile onto his face, trying to contain the boiling anger he felt.

"Good." Jormander mused, his smile flickering menacingly. "I'm sure anything you were doing can wait."


	25. Chapter 24: Assembly

Jarvan stepped into the throne room and immediately felt as if he were being watched. He glanced around, noticing that many eyes were following him as he moved deeper into the high ceilinged room. He had heard the din of quieted conversation from the hallway, but as he passed through the main doors of the throne room, silence descended upon the massive hall. Jarvan paused just inside the doorway, the blue and gold carpet leading up towards the raised throne where his father and mother's chairs sat empty. Jarvan glanced over his shoulder, but General Jormander and his escorts had disappeared, just leaving Delancey in his wake. The young blonde looked nervous as her eyes played over the entirety of the the Demacian high command arrayed around them, watching as she and the prince approached the throne.

"Greetings, Prince Jarvan." Colonel Dillich stepped forward, his guards crossing their lances as Jarvan and Delancey approached the central most point of the throne room, where the path diverged towards both sides, as well as continuing straight towards the throne.

"Colonel Dillich." Jarvan said evenly, only the barest of frowns crossing his face. "What's the meaning of this?" He turned slightly, looking over his shoulder to where even the entirety of the noble houses, the members of the legislative council, were sitting, looking towards Jarvan.

"It will be explained shortly, sire." The colonel said, a smile playing across his face. The colonel turned to Delancey, the smile broadening for a moment as he looked over the young woman. "Sergeant Delancey."

"Colonel." She saluted promptly.

"You know the drill: no weapons." The flicker of the smile still played over his face as the young woman rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah." Delancey grumbled, beginning to hand over her array of weaponry to one of the men-at-arms who had accompanied Dillich. She dropped her her sword on top of a pile of silver blades and then dropped her hands to her sides. "That it?" Dillich said, eying the small pile of knives and her sword that she handed off to one of the men.

"You think I should be carrying more then, colonel?" Delancey said, raising an eyebrow. Dillich shrugged and turned back to Jarvan.

"You may proceed, sir." He stepped aside, his men retracting their lances and stepping back. Jarvan nodded his head, moving down the aisle that divided the four quadrants of the throne room, sliding in at the very front of the front right quadrant, dropping into his seat unceremoniously. Delancey slid into a spare seat behind him, obviously nervous to be sitting with the highest of the brass at what was clearly an important social and martial function. Jarvan crossed his arms over his chest and waited as the din slowly rose again.

"I would have thought you were the last ones to arrive." Jormander mused from several chairs over, leaning forward to look at the prince. Jarvan hid his sneer by glancing over his shoulder and then back to Jormander. _How did he... never mind._

"Who else could we be waiting for?" Jarvan said, glancing in the general's direction.

Jormander shrugged, a thin smile lingering on his face. "Who knows. It's rare for the king to call both the legislative council and the command staff together." He frowned for a second but then exhaled sharply. "I suppose it's an announcement regarding the explosion this morning. Though it could pertain to the ongoing situation in Kalamanda as well." Jormander stroked his chin thoughtfully for a few moments but chuckled, looking back over at Jarvan. "Speaking of, how is your dragon... _friend_? I heard she was injured in the accident."

"I was tempted to ask _you_ that." Jarvan said, narrowing his eyes as he glared at the general.

Jormander raised his hands apologetically, trying to ward off the prince's scorn. "I had nothing to do with that, actually." Jormander said, a slight frown crossing his face. He tried to hide the moment of anger that flared in his eyes and nostrils with a smile but Jarvan has seen the momentary lapse of the calm and collected exterior. "Call it genuine concern." The general mused, shrugging. "And if you hear anything, I'd like to know, of course."

"Of course." Jarvan hissed gruffly, sitting back in his seat. "I was headed to check on her when I was summoned."

At the front of the throne room, Colonel Kranoff Dillich approached the king's throne, bowing once and then turning to inspect the room one last time. "Attention!" He bellowed, the entirety of the hall getting to their feet and looking off to the right side of the throne room. "Presenting his highness, King Jarvan Lightshield III of Demacia."

The doors were opened by two guards and the king strode in, wearing a stern expression. Lady Catherine and Xin Zhao trailed in his wake, accompanied by more guards, following him to their seats at the very front of the room. They mounted the steps, lady Catherine moving to the seat directly to the left of the throne, the king moving up to his seat and then waiting for his wife to be seated. He let his ice blue eyes wander over the crowd for a few moments as she seated herself to his right. His icy gaze settled on the prince. Jarvan IV shivered slightly as the king's eyes threatened to cloud over, but after a few moments they simply passed over the prince and onward towards the left side of the throne room and the legislative council. Xin Zhao stood just behind and to the left of the king, his lance in hand, his dark eyes scanning the crowd as well, though where the king looked for fear, Xin looked for threats.

"Thank you all for coming, and I apologize for the abrupt summons." The king said nodding his head. "You may be seated." He waited until the noise of the entire hall had settled before continuing, spreading his hands before him graciously. "I know the news among the city-state and coming from Kalamanda has been bleak over the past few weeks. Thoughts about the entrapment of the twelve Demacian miners trapped in Kalamanda has been weighing heavily on the public's mind recently, and the incident this morning has only compounded the public's fears and their lack of understanding about what has been going on across Valoran." The kings eyes lightened as they settled on Jarvan IV for a few moments. The prince shivered again, glancing away as the king's intense glare threatened to cut through him.

"At approximately eleven-hundred-hours this morning, a large explosion rocked the east road just outside the Eastern Victory Gates. While information is still scant at best, there have been no reports of fatalities, despite the presence of heavy traffic on the road as refugees arrive from Kalamanda and a Demacian Guard Unit that was returning from a training exercise. This is thanks to the quick and proactive decisions made by a Checkpoint inspection detail lead by Galio, the Demacian Sentinel, as well as the commander of the training unit who offered swift assistance in the emergency." A smattering of applause echoed through the hallway. "However, had it not been for the bravery of two young women, there would have been further casualties and possible fatalities as well. Thanks to their courageous actions, we know what caused this calamity, and how it was averted so narrowly." There was another smattering of applause.

"This brings me to my point." The king settled into a parade rest stance, his gaze looking out over crowd before him. "To try and counteract the low morale that has been sweeping the nation, two weeks from now, there is going to be a nationally decreed holiday. There are several reasons for this, but recently, with the heavy strain of Kalamanda resting on every citizen's shoulders, the entire nation has been mired down by the heavy burden of responsibility. In addition to state sponsored festivities and a mandatory vacation period for all military personnel and workers within the city, there will be a Royal Ball. This ball will be in recognition of the young women and the other heroes from the incident this morning, as well as other heroes that have not received the recognition they deserved in the past several months. It will also serve as the formal welcoming home of my son, the prince." Jarvan frowned slightly as he blushed, applause echoing around the throne room. The king waited till the applause died before continuing, a thin smile lingering on his face.

"Following this ball, my son and I will be departing for Kalamanda to observe and deal with the situation at hand." A murmur arose through the crowd, dissent and confusion echoing through some of the whispers. "I wish to settle any and all doubts about the instability of the region by working closely with the Kalamandan Officials to resolve any and all issues. There will be many preparations for this undertaking, and I just wanted to preemptively thank all of you for your work and the hardship that you will face and you _have_ faced in the past and coming months. Until these issues are resolved, my son and I will be doing all that we can to promote the strength of Demacia and the support of all of her interests in the region. Tensions in Kalamanda are continually rising, and until they are quelled, the entirety of Runeterra is at risk of war. The task will not be an easy one: our enemy is well trained, well equipped and battle hardened. He will fight savagely, but if peace is to break down, men and women of Demacia, it is upon our shoulders to maintain the peace and freedom of free Runeterra against the encroaching Noxian War Machine!" He raised his fist triumphantly as cheers roared through the hall, echoing across the massive, high-vaulted ceilings, the very air reverberating with the roar of the crowd. The king looked out over the crowd with a proud smile beaming on his face as the cheers slowly died. "Thank you." The king bowed his head. "Dismissed."

The crowded hallway burst into conversation as officers and staff began conversing, the initial plans being laid, the hundreds of hours of planning required now beginning to take shape. There was a sinking feeling of dread in Jarvan's stomach as he watched officers send staff running in every direction, even the most slothful and the oldest generals moving at a brisk pace as they readied for the worst. _This isn't talk of freedom or support of Kalamanda... This... this is war._

"Well then, it looks like we're going on a trip." Delancey whispered with a frown as she stood up, looking to the prince, fear glimmering in her green eyes. "Are we going to war, sir?"

"I don't know, Del." Jarvan said softly, shaking his head. "I truly don't know right now."

Kranoff Dillich stepped up to the prince, tapping him on the shoulder, interrupting him before he could say anything else to his sergeant. "Sire, the king would like you to stay after. He needs to speak with you alone."

Jarvan frowned slightly, but nodded. "Of course." Jarvan said, bowing his head in thanks, turning towards where General Jormander had risen to his feet. Jarvan struggled to keep the malice from his voice, but he knew his narrowed eyes and stiff shoulders betrayed his discomfort. "Thank you for your _concern _about Shyvana's safety earlier general, and I hope you'll accept my regret at not being able to escort you back as far as my office."

The general's smile flickered with amusement, but he nodded his head sagely in response. "Worry not." The general chuckled softly, waving his hand. "I have other business to attend to anyways. I do hope you do not hold my earlier _concerns_ against you." He shrugged. "Business, you know." As the crowd started to thin, Jarvan felt the desire to simply haul off and slug the bastard yet again, but another general brushed past him and Jarvan knew he would never hear the end of it if he did. "Oh well, I hope your dragon friend gets better..." The general patted Jarvan on the shoulder, a thin smile playing over his face, though his eyes glimmered cold and maliciously. "It'd be a shame if anything were to happen to her in the hospital."

Jarvan clenched his fists and gritted his teeth as Jormander chuckled and wandered away. As soon as he was out of earshot, tension and anger coursed through Jarvan's body like all of the emotion he had been bottling up and had suddenly exploded. "Damn!" Jarvan hissed, shaking his head in disgust, his fists quivering at his sides, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly.

"Someone really needs to smack that that smug cunt." Delancey growled, shaking her head. Her hand shot to her mouth, a surprised look on her face. She turned to Jarvan and frowned sheepishly. "Apologies sir—uh... Are you alright, sir?"

Jarvan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, slowly opening his fists and shivering slightly as he closed his eyes and took another deep breath. "I will be as soon as I get the chance to see Shyvana." Jarvan shook his head. "This day..." He ran his hands over his face. "It just keeps getting worse and worse." His mother moved slightly closer, a hopefully expression on her face as she looked to him. Jarvan sighed heavily, straightening his tunic and standing up straighter. "I'll be back shortly, Del." The young sergeant nodded, standing back as the prince moved off and approached the front of the throne room where his mother stood waiting.

"How have you been, Jarvan?" The queen hugged the prince and then held him at arm's length, looking him up and down. "You look so tired... I haven't seen you since you taken to the hospital. How is your arm? Does it hurt?" She shook her head, hugging him again before she took a step back, taking a deep breath and smiling at her son. "Sorry." She muttered brusquely, regaining her composure and trying to hide the fact that she was a worried mother. "How is Shyvana? I heard she was injured..."

Jarvan nodded his head solemnly. "I don't know, mother. I was on my way to see her when I was summarily told to fuck off and come here." The horrified look on his mother's face made Jarvan realize how hurtful his language had been. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, resting a hand on his mother's shoulder. "Apologies, mother. It has been a very difficult day."

"I didn't realize..." Lady Catherine said, shaking her head, a worried look settling over her face as she looked up at her son, sweeping brown hair from her face. "I do hope she is alright."

"Me too." Jarvan growled, shaking his head and looking to where his father spoke with several of his generals on the steps to his throne. "What's the deal with the Ball? It hardly seems like an appropriate way to raise morale in a a time where war is a not too distant possibility." Jarvan sneered. "It sounds like the height of arrogance to me."

"I'm glad you approve of my methods, son." The king growled sarcastically as he descended from the throne, Xin Zhao following in his wake.

"Father." Jarvan acknowledged his approach as a courtesy, but the tone was far terser than what would be normal between a father and son. "You wished to speak with me?"

"I did." The king nodded, casting Jarvan a disapproving look. "Firstly, how is your shoulder? I noticed you were no longer wearing the sling."

"It's healing nicely." Jarvan said, his hand hovering where the wound had been in his shoulder. "A few more days and I should be fully healed."

"Good." The king said, nodding. "I wished to speak about several upcoming events."

"Yeah, you did kind of blindside me with our trip to Kalamanda and the declaration of war." Jarvan growled, shaking his head.

"Apologies, but I wish to show my concern for our citizens and I wish to evaluate the situation in Kalamanda for myself." The king's eyes ran over the prince as if he were sizing him up. "And it is not war, Jarvan, merely the threat of conflict breaking out."

"Could of fooled me." Jarvan muttered, his father ignoring the snide comment.

"It is also my understanding there is some business you need to attend to in Kalamanda." The king's eyes threatened to cloud over, but he ran a hand over his black beard, producing a frown.

Jarvan hid his surprise and confusion with a matching frown. "I don't recall having any business there..."

"Oh?" Confusion darkened the king's eyes slightly. "Perhaps Jormander was mistaken? When I was discussing my plans with him he said that you had an ongoing investigation you were assisting him with and that your leads were pointing to Kalamanda?"

"I..." Jarvan subdued the desire to curse the Demsec general, instead realizing that anything he opposed would come back to haunt him. _My investigations of Swain and L. _He internalized a sigh and then looked to the king. "Ah, yes. _That._ I _mentioned_ it in passing to the general when I went and met him this morning. He seemed to take a _particular_ interest in it."

Something dark flashed in the king's eyes as he read the message in between Jarvan's words. "I see." The king mused quietly, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Do you wish not to go, then?"

Jarvan shrugged with some effort. "I'm running into more and more dead ends the deeper I dig. Books and records served as some basis to start me off, but I've run out of information to sort through. Perhaps the change of scenery will grant some clarity to my theories. I'll go."

"Very good." The king said, nodding with a small smile. "Considering your expertise with the Noxians, it would prove very beneficial to have you along. Councilor Crownguard wanted to extend his thanks for the work you assisted him with. He was very impressed with what you had gathered in such a short time frame."

Jarvan grunted at the compliment but didn't say anything else. The king waited a few moments to try and judge the prince's reaction, but Jarvan's face remained neutral, though his eyes betrayed the fact that the prince was lost in thought. Jarvan III cleared his throat and then continued: "I do hope you'll be available for the ceremonial ball?"

"I still think the timing inappropriate, but I shall be there." Jarvan murmured. _It will be fun for Shyvana. _The very thought of seeing Shyvana in a slinky dress that could hug her curves brought a bit of color and a thin smile to Jarvan's face. Jarvan's parents both smiled.

The king patted his son on the shoulder. "It will be good to show the people that we are both confident in our country and ourselves. There will be several announcements made at the ceremonial ball. The first of course, will be your official homecoming. Despite your return to her, Demacia has never had the chance to formally welcome you home." The king smiled for a moment, trying to to display both his pride in his son and his nation. Jarvan didn't share the sentiment though, a bit of a frown settling on his face as he looked up at his father. "And the young dragon girl. How is she? I heard she was injured this morning."

"Everyone keeps asking me and I wish I knew." Jarvan said, his eyes narrowing slightly, his suspicions of his father steadily growing. "I'm surprised you did. You've hardly seemed interested in her well being in the past." Jarvan waited for a moment to see what sort of effect the comment had of his father, but there wasn't any reaction, his father's face remaining impassible, even his eyes not reflecting the comment. Surprised that there had been no reaction, Jarvan shrugged. "I have yet to be able to get away to go and find out how she is faring."

"Unfortunate." The king said evenly, completely ignoring the thinly veiled insult. "Speaking of, the next order of business at the ball will be the presentation of four medals, three of them to _Shyvana_ and one further to her friend, Alicia Juniper." Jarvan noted the moment of hesitation before the king used her actual name. "Her acts of bravery are being recognized by both Demacia and Piltover, and she will be receiving a Demacian Distinguished Service Star in addition to a Piltovan Medal of Valor. She will also gain the right to wear Demacia Wound stripes, as well as Second Class Gallantry stripes."

Jarvan frowned slightly, looking to the king without trying to hide his confusion. Colloquially known as 'blood marks' among the military, wound strips were a representation and decoration granted to those who had been wounded in combat or service to Demacia, the red bands worn just above the cuffs of a soldier's uniform tunic. Gallantry stripes were similar, but they had a slightly different meaning. Typically awarded for courage demonstrated during the heat of the moment, Demacia soldiers knew them to carry a deeper meaning than even that. Often awarded posthumously, soldiers of the Demacia military believed that true heroism came when someone knew that doing the right thing would hurt, but they did it anyway. Worn along the outer seams of a soldier's uniform pant leg or skirt, the red or gold lines were considered to be one of the greatest commendations that could be awarded to a living soldier.

"You're making her out as a hero?" Jarvan said suspiciously. His brow creased as he crossed his arms over his chest "Why can't you just give her an actual position and stop forcing her to be babysat all day by the Royal Guard's training company? Would that be too difficult?"

"Perhaps..." The king mused, an thoughtful expression on his face as he ran his hand over his beard again. He turned to the Seneschal and nodded his head slightly, the dark eyed warrior remaining silent and stoic through the conversation. "How about this: If she can beat Xin Zhao in a duel, I'll personally put her promotion and assignment to you as your _personal_ bodyguard forward to high command." The smirk the king wore told of how he didn't believe she could do it.

"Promise?" Jarvan hissed.

The king chuckled. "Of course!" He smiled confidently. "No terms, conditions, stipulations, anything."

"And if she fails?" Jarvan said hesitantly. It seemed to be to good to be true.

"She simply continues her training. She can try again whenever she wants when she fails." The king shrugged. He looked to the Seneschal, but Xin Zhao remained quiet, his vigilance turned to the remaining occupants of the room rather than the conversation at hand. "It is set then." A moment of silence followed as the king offered his son a smile, though the prince did not return it. "You know, I heard she saved the life of a well-known Piltovan scientist, and now he says he wishes to continue his research here in Demacia." A thin smile settled on the king's face.

Jarvan blinked away the shock, his face hardening into a dark frown. "If you planned this entire thing plot from the start..." Jarvan growled menacingly, his fists quivering as he openly stared at his father's audacity.

"I may be a scheming old man, but I would never intentionally put someone in a position like that without their consent." The king took on a look of offense, but there was a coldness in his icy blue eyes that betrayed the hurt expression.

"That's bullshit and you know it." Jarvan growled.

"Jarvan!" Lady Catherine snapped, surprised at her son's angered outburst. "Why must you continue to speak to your father like that?"

"It's fine, Catherine." The kind said, raising a hand to forestall her protest. She was cross as she laced her arms together over her chest, frowning at her husband and then her son in turn. "It's high time our son started to learn how to lead the nation that he will someday inherit. If he wants to stand by his sense of idealism and honesty, then he can do so." The king turned to stare at the prince and his eyes darkened to that of the most menacing thunderheads the sky had to offer. "However your idealism will lead you down a road that is wrought with hardship and pain, my son. Loved ones and friends will suffer from your decisions, and you must be prepared to deal with that." The king's glare lightened ever so slightly, but its intensity didn't fade a bit. "As king, you will be forced to make decisions that will cause some to suffer for the benefit of the masses. If you try to protect everyone, you won't be able to protect anyone."

"Since when did you become such a cynical asshole?" Jarvan snarled.

"Jarvan!" Lady Catherine snapped again.

"What?" Jarvan growled, standing up straighter, towering over his mother. "What's wrong with idealism?" He turned and glared at his father. "What happened to Demacia being the shining bastion of all that was right? We were the paragon of virtue, raising justice for everyone above all else!" Jarvan waved his hand in front of his face. He snarled and took two steps away from his parents, pausing, spinning back to face then and then pointing to the ground menacingly. "I returned to a city rife with classicism, lies, hatred, anger, greed, squabbling nobles, and a king who is too busy plotting with the general of Demsec to bother looking around and seeing all the problems with the city he once fought to protect!"

"Jarvan..." The king whispered softly, his voice wavering slightly.

"What?" The prince spun about, glaring at the king and pointing an accusing finger at him, the prince's arm quivering in anger. "I'm sorry I'm not your ideal son, I'm not the example you wanted me to be, simply riding the waves left in your wake. All you've ever done is tell me what to do, where to go, who to kill. If you wanted a son who was just a slave to your whims, why don't you go adopt Jormander?" Jarvan snarled. "He's exactly like you, hell, he's practically cut from the same damn cloth! Cunning, ruthless, plotting, an asshole... and above all else, both of you view me like nothing more than a tool to be used in your own schemes!" Jarvan threw his arms up in exasperation.

It was as if thunder had broken loose in the king's eyes, but there was also pain in his expression. The sharp blue color dulled slightly and Jarvan felt his breath catch in his throat. Jarvan III sighed heavily and ran a hand over his beard, the wear and tear of trying to run a nation suddenly evident on his face. He grimaced and looked at Jarvan, his eyes lightening slightly as frustration marred his expression. "I trust Jormander as if he were kin, but the reality remains: he is not. There is no bond stronger than blood." The King reached out and set and hand on his son's shoulder, frustration and pride again flowing through his expression. "It angers me to no end because trouble just seems to follow you, and yet I wouldn't change anything about you." The king looked to the ground as if this was one of the most difficult things he had ever done. Frustration, pride, pain and nerves all coursed through his expression, and Jarvan could see that he was suffering. Jarvan felt his throat thicken. The queen grabbed her husband's shoulder and then slid her hand into her son's hand, looking at them with hope brightening her eyes.

"Father..." Jarvan said nervously. His father struggled to find his words, glancing to the floor, to Catherine, and every other direction, though the growing distress and frustration on his face was starting to instill a sense of dread in the prince's stomach.

The king shook his head, straightening up slightly. "I'm proud... of the work you've been doing, and I hope you continue with your efficiency. It is good to have someone else who is capable in the palace." The king looked relieved slightly, but Prince Jarvan felt as if he had been crushed. The dread shattered like knives driving through his chest, anger welling in his heart now as he looked to his mother. Frustration mixed with abhorrence marred her face as she shook her head and sighed, her hands falling away and crossing in front of her. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

The king nodded, plowing onwards, blissfully unaware, as if nothing had happened. "The final announcement will be the official announcement of your engagement." Jarvan's eyes went wide as he put two and two together, the awards that were seemingly being showered on Shyvana for no reason suddenly making some sense. A smile started to spread on the prince's face, evaporating the pain he felt, but it slowly turned back to dread as the king turned away, an uncomfortable frown on his mother's face as she refused to meet his gaze. The king cleared his throat. "Elvarran Brightstrom is a fine young woman, Jarvan. She's smart, quick witted and pretty. I think you'll like her."

Jarvan blinked several times in disbelief.

He clicked his jaw shut and shook his head, his mind struggling to comprehend the man who stood before him. "Father..." Jarvan growled menacingly.

"I don't want to hear it, son." The king said firmly, his eyes clouding over to the blue-gray of a menacing thunderhead. "This conversation is over." He quickly turned and marched off, an army of aides falling into his wake as he moved quickly from the throne room before Jarvan could sat a single word in protest. Xin Zhao bowed and excused himself, backing away to follow after the king.

Jarvan snarled in anger as he went to turn away and storm off, but his mother grabbed his hand and held onto it as he tried to tug it away. Jarvan wheeled about on her, anger contorting his face into a furious mask. "What, you want to try and convince me I shouldn't pursue her too!? Or maybe you want to try and tell me I can't go and fucking _visit_ her in the hospital?!"

The heat of the pain on the prince's face came first. Jarvan touched his cheek in surprise, his mother's hand raised up, her arm across her chest, her palm facing herself.

_She... she slapped me?_

The was hurt on Lady Catherine's face as she looked at Jarvan in horror and shame, tears welling in her eyes. "Nothing of the sort!" She snapped with indignation, choking back the tears, glaring at her son before she finally sighed heavily, shaking her head, gesturing towards the back hallways, the prince nodding slightly as he fell in beside her. She took a few moments to produce and dab the tears away, taking a deep breath before she spoke. "Your father... he loves you dearly." She looked torn, turning and watching as her husband marched away stiffly. "He tried to express that today... but it's hard for him. He doesn't know how to tell you because he's had to be the king of Demacia for so long. He doesn't know how to act towards his son."

"I'm hardly his son." Jarvan snarled, though some of the anger had died in his throat as his cheek burned. "I'm a pawn to him, nothing more. He doesn't want what's best for me, he wants what will benefit him the most. He wants to keep the family name alive, he wants to keep his power." Jarvan growled in frustration, spinning and starting away, fear and pain clear in his footfalls as he stomped away. He slowed to a halt, starting to look back to his mother, but not bothering to even meet her gaze. "He is not my father, he is the king. Nothing else."

"Jarvan..." Lady Catherine whispered, her tone husky and strained as pain flowed through her voice.

"We're going, Del." Jarvan snapped, headed for the door. He paused, looking out the window, a snarl dying in his throat. "The hospital is probably closed now..." He ran a hand over his head and growled again, this time the anger clear in his throat.

"Sir." Delancey responded quietly, glancing at queen, her eyes following her son as he left. The queen glared at Delancey for a moment but the sergeant bowed nervously and quickly turned away, taking off to catch up with Jarvan.


	26. Chapter 25: Watcher

The howl of the wind and the rattling the of the shutters woke Jarvan. He opened his eyes slowly, blurred against the few hours of sleep he had gotten and the bitter cold of the stone that surrounded him.

_Great, the hospital, this is exactly where I didn't want to end up again._ He sat up slightly, looking around, a moment of surprise washing over him as he looked around, expecting to find nothing but a sea of sterile white. Jarvan grunted as he tried to sit up, hissing as his feet hit the cold stone floor and immediately sending a wave of clarity through his mind. The distant clicking of a nurse passing by faded from the air, leaving an unnerving stillness to the cool air. Jarvan yawned and took a few moments to slide his boots on, grunting and kicking at the damnable metal grieves when he couldn't pull the on as easily as he had taken them off.

"Fucking boot." Jarvan sat back in the chair, still much to tired to try and deal with the boot at the moment, instead, taking a few minutes to take in his surroundings. As he looked up at the ceiling, arching columns of stone reached from ceiling to floor, supporting the upper floors and providing excellent hangings for hextech lanterns, though the golden metal brackets lay dark and cold in the early morning stillness. Jarvan looked at the walls and the angled blocks of stone, rough-hewn, but in a tasteful way, stretching up and down the massive walls. Around him, there was a heavy white curtain that had been pulled around the single occupied bed in the cubicle, providing a modicum of privacy. Jarvan creased his brow slightly, reaching his hand out to run along the heavy white cloth, its surface cool to the touch.

_Where..._ A moment of realization washed over him. _Right, the Academy._ Jarvan leaned forward and ran his hands over his face, blinking a few times and then running his hands back over his head, smoothing his bed ridden hair, leaning back and taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly as he looked around.

Jarvan glanced around the room, finally finding what he was looking for hung at the far end of the long hallway, hung high above the doorway that led from the hall. The clock shown six-thirty in the morning.

Three hours... if that... Jarvan shuddered and looked to the bed next to him, a mess of red hair sprouting from the large, comfy looking pillow, the blankets pulled up to her nose. The blankets rose and fell with the sound of soft breathing coming from within. Jarvan smiled softly as he exposed his hand and brushed a few strands of the ruby red hair from her face, the dragoness stirring for only a brief moments before her rhythmic breathing resumed.

Jarvan leaned back, though his eyes stayed glued to Shyvana's face, the pink-flushed pale skin gleaming like polished china in the dim light. They had arrived late the previous night after the dragoness had already been moved from the hospital to here in one of the wings of the infirmary of the Demacian Martial Academy. The medical school was close by, and though Jarvan had spoken with the nurse about keeping the rabble out, his appearance and the already circulating rumors of the Shyvana's heroic rescue efforts had caused quite the buzz. Jarvan shook his head at the memory of the MPs having been summoned to shoo the students back to their beds. "Rest well, Shyvana. Enough for the both of us."

"Up already, sir?" Delancey said, looking up from where she was sitting on the floor, her back to the bed, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She tried to blink the weariness away as she pushed herself up and yawned, but as she smothered the yawn she blushed slightly. She tried to look alert and attentive, but there were heavy bags under her eyes and she looked like she had just gotten off of a forty hour guard duty assignment. Jarvan yawned as well, glaring at Delancey as she smiled sheepishly. Jarvan shook his head and let his shoulders slacken as he started struggling with his boots again.

Delancey blinked a few times, "I feel like I just went to sleep." Jarvan grumbled, pushing the blanket aside and standing up, stretching his back and cracking his neck, looking at the clock again. He exhaled slowly as he clicked the latches of the straps of his boots, kicking them gently against the stone to seat his foot properly. Jarvan glanced down at the young sergeant as she yawned a second time, pity befalling him. "Here." Jarvan said, gesturing to the padded chair. "I don't need it right now."

"Where are you going?" Delancey said, eying him curiously, pushing herself to her feet and yawning again, pushing a mess of blonde hair back over her shoulder and tugging it out of her eyes. She pulled the blanket tighter over her shoulders and frowned ruefully at the prince as he finished fastening the

"Out." Jarvan grunted, looking towards the wind-rattled shutters that were closed against the weather. A tall window arched up the wall at the head of Shyvana's bed, a frown on his face as the shutters rattled mightily again, snow battering against them.

"In that weather, sir?" Delancey said, eying the fact that outside the window, what was barely visible through the thin gaps in the shudders was almost pure white. Delancey shook her head. "It's a blizzard out there, sir. You probably cant see more than a few feet."

"I need to take a walk." Jarvan said, shaking his head. He stepped up to the side of Shyvana's bed and looked down at her, a small smile on his face that hovered on the very edge of becoming a frown. Delancey looked at the princes eyes, and though he was smiling, she saw pain in the pale blue-gray orbs. He brushed some of the red locks from her face, leaning down and kissing her gently on her forehead. "Seeing her like this brings back a lot of painful memories." Jarvan shook his head and shivered as he pulled his uniform jacket from the back of the chair and tugged it on, buttoning the tunic up and straightening it across his chest. "I want to just sit here and hold her hand until she wakes, but I think having to sit here and watch her lie wounded and helpless... it would drive me mad." He ran his hand gently along the top of the thick wool blanket that covered the wound in her side. Bandages covered most of her lower torso, wrapped over the same place Jarvan had once stitched up himself. The three long, thin scars had been barely visible on her waist, almost completely gone, but now there was a massive wound that covered the scars up.

_Demacia is already beginning to erase the evidence of our time together. _Jarvan shook his head and shivered, straightening up and trying not to dwell on his father's words from before. A moment of anger coursed through his body, stiffening his body, but he stopped himself and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Shyvana stirred again, groaning quietly as she turned her head, revealing a bandage that ran along her cheek.

"I understand, sir." Delancey responded softly, looking up at the clock and then rubbing her eyes through her eyelids. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and looked up to Jarvan. "Where do you want to go?"

Jarvan watched Shyvana quietly for a moment and sighed, tucking a few locks her hair aside her face and brushing a finger gently along her cheek, carefully running over a bandage. His brow creased slightly, the bandage so much courser than her soft skin. Shyvana stirred slightly, but her chest continued to rise and fall rhythmically. "You're not going anywhere." Jarvan murmured as he shook his head, continuing to watch the dragoness.

Delancey fought to hide the stupid look of shock she knew she was wearing as she tugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders and frowned. "Sir, I can't let you go out in this weather alone, hell, I'm not supposed to leave you alone at all. That's why I'm your bodyguard." Jarvan turned his gaze to Delancey. She inhaled sharply; his eyes were hard and cold. The sadness was gone, but there was no warmth either.

"I want you to stay here and keep an eye on Shyvana while I'm gone." The prince said firmly, his tone of voice forestalling any comments from the young sergeant. "With Jormander gunning for me and the fact that there is still that asshat who shot me on the loose, I don't want to leave Shyvana alone right now. If that accident on the east road was designed to kill her, then our _opponent_ is capable and willing of killing anyone who gets in the way, including foreigners and dignitaries. They have no qualms about hurting people, and Shyvana is easily the quickest and safest way to attack me as far as manipulation goes."

"You think someone would try and attack her?" Delancey said, aghast as she pulled the blanket closer around her shoulders.

"I do." Jarvan growled. "Until I can find out who is behind it or I can find someone else to protect her, you're the only person I can trust right now."

"Thank you... I think." Delancey said frowning. "Why trust me, though?" Her brow furrowed slightly, her shoulders drawing closer together and she looked to the ground thoughtfully.

"Why shouldn't I?" Jarvan asked, a moment of genuine surprise clear on his face.

"I mean..." She frowned as if she were debating about something in her mind. "My father was executed from treason, my mother is in a mental hospital and you don't know anything about me. And yet you would trust me with the most important thing in your life?" Her gaze drifted to Shyvana and then back to the prince, waiting nervously for a scathing reply.

"The fact that you have to ask this questions only serves to reinforce my trust in you." Jarvan said softly. "You know the pain of loss and the anger that comes from having felt betrayed by your country." Delancey blinked a few times as if she weren't believing what she were hearing. The prince simply shrugged. "If I didn't think you didn't genuinely care about everyone you worked with, for their health and well being, as well as their feelings, I wouldn't have put up with the high-pitched voice and the almost oppressively outgoing and positive attitude." Delancey's growing smile suddenly turned to hurt shock.

"You think my voice is annoying?" She said sadly, glancing to the the floor. "And I didn't mean to be so happy all the time. If you want I can-..."

Jarvan set his hand on her shoulder and shook her head as she looked up and met his gaze. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Del." He smiled softly, though the pain had returned to his eyes. "It has helped make these trying times bearable. It's refreshing."

"Thank you, sir." Delancey squeaked quietly, blushing. She pulled a hand from the blanket and saluted casually, giving Jarvan and proud and beaming smile. "I appreciate your trust, sir! I won't let you down!" Jarvan nodded and his smile grew a bit wider, but Delancey narrowed her eyes as she glared at him. "But that doesn't change the fact sir, I can't let you leave unguarded."

"Damn." Jarvan chuckled with a faint smile. He shook his head and shrugged. "You're not going to. He should be arriving soon." The sound of the door opening and closing at the far end of the hallway echoed around the room. The silence was punctuated by the soft clank of metal grieves on stone and Jarvan gestured for Delancey to check who it was as she glared at him accusingly. She moved to the curtain and swept it back. She snapped to attention and tried to salute, though her hands got tangled inside the blanket.

"Beautiful morning, isn't it Sergeant Major?" She said brusquely, eying the noncom's snow covered boots and the snow that was stuck to his hat and shoulders. She swept the curtain further back to let him enter.

"What are you, a fucking weatherman now?" The sergeant major growled as he stepped past. Delancey's mouth fell open. The sergeant major wore a thin, sarcastic grin as he extended a steaming mug to Delancey as she closed the curtain, a scowl on her face. "Here."

"Coffee?" Jarvan sniffed the air, his eyes brightening slightly, a smile starting to grow on his face.

"Brewed hot and strong enough to dissolve glass." The sergeant major said nodding, handing Jarvan a mug as well. Delancey accepted her mug, wrapping her hands around the barrel and taking a deep breath of the steam that rose from the top, sighing contently as the steam threatened to dissolve her face.

"That smells amazing..." She murmured, sipping the liquid tepidly, sighing again happily as it immediately started to warm her from within.

"They just put out a fresh pot when I was getting here." Perrywinkle said, leaning against the end of the bed, looking over his shoulder at the dragoness. "I figured a couple of cups wouldn't go amiss here. How's the girl?"

"She got out of surgery successfully late last night." Jarvan said, frowning as he looked down at Shyvana, running a hand gently over her shoulder. "However, the doctor said there is some sort of residual effects from the machine that she saved that damned Yordle Scientist from. Something about how the machine was designed to absorb mana from natural sources and then store it to be discarded later has caused the wound to not be healing properly."

"So wait, she's not healing properly?" The sergeant major looked down at her and frowned slightly. "She looks a bit pale I suppose, but she always looked a bit thin and pale if you ask me." He grunted and shrugged.

"I don't know, honestly." Jarvan shook his head. "Apparently the wound isn't getting affected by health potions, so she has to let it heal naturally. Doc says she heals faster than normal, but he doesn't know how long that's going to take because of the machine. They brought her here to have a biology professor who's a doctor take a look at her." The sergeant major grunted and stood back, reconsidering the young dragoness, taking a half step away from her and the bed as if she had the plauge. "Don't worry, sergeant major. She's safe to be around. As long as you don't make her angry, that is."

"Sir." The sergeant major nodded, though he still kept a wary eye on her.

"Alright, Del." Jarvan said, taking his coat from where it had been tucked under the edge of Shyvana's bed and shook it out. He pulled it on and grimaced against the clammy fabric. "I want you to stay here with Shyvana and try and get some rest, you look like shit."

"I'll say." The sergeant major said with a huff, looking the young sergeant over, eying her wild hair and the dower look on her face.

"Bite me, you ass." Delancey growled, glaring at the sergeant major over the top of the mug of coffee. "And thanks for the coffee... sir." The sergeant major snorted and waved his hand dismissively as he moved to curtain

"There's more in the lobby if you want it." He stopped and pulled the curtain back. He stepped out of the the small area cordoned off for Shyvana and looked around, taking a few moments to simply listen. He finally nodded to himself and gestured that it was all clear. He stood just outside, holding the curtain back, waiting for the prince. "Shall we, sir?"

"Yeah." Jarvan murmured, his eyes still lingering on Shyvana. He glanced at both Delancey and Perrywinkle, giving them a hard glare before he leaned down and kissed Shyvana on the forehead before he stood up straight, straightened his jacket and headed to the door. "Keep an ear out, Del. Or keep it discreet if you decide to get some sleep. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Yes sir." Delancey said, sliding in the chair next to Jarvan, pulling the blanket around her shoulders, still nursing the cup of coffee. "Stay warm out there."

The prince nodded, and stepped past the curtain, pausing to take a last glance at the redheaded young woman who was lain up in bed. He sighed and then gestured for the sergeant major to follow him, taking off down the corridor, pausing only to let the sergeant major to close the door to the infirmary hall the dragoness was resting in. The sergeant major gave the door a quick tug to check it was closed properly and then nodded to Jarvan as they turned headed down the hall. Jarvan paused in the foyer of the Academy's Medical School and infirmary building to toss off the last of his coffee and discard the mug on a tray for used mugs next to the coffee pot. He paused, staring at the shining silver pot for a brief moment before he turned away. He fell in with the sergeant major as they stepped down to the main door. There were several guards posted just inside the door, both in full armor and looking tired and slightly distracted. Jarvan frowned as he looked at the guards, pulling his gloves on and glaring at them as he did. The sergeant major noticed the prince's disapproving glare and cleared his throat, both men starting and then snapping to attention, saluting the prince as the sergeant major posted his fists on his hips and glared at them.

Jarvan grunted as the soldiers dropped their salutes, falling back to parade rest, though they looked a bit surprised though now looking a bit more attentive. The sergeant major opened the door and moved through, gesturing for Jarvan to follow as he looked through the white blizzard that roared past. Snow and wind seeped through the doorway, though much of the snow flew horizontally past the doorway.

"Where to, sir?" The sergeant major said, eying the snow storm that was blowing outside with notable trepidation.

"Just a few errands and then I need to find someone." Jarvan sighed, pushing the door open. "Let's go."

* * *

"Anything else, sir?" Sergeant Major Perrywinkle asked, looking at the small sack that Jarvan carried under one arm. The prince looked down at the bag and frowned for a moment and shook his head.

"That should be it for my errands. Just one last think to take care of now." Jarvan said, pausing, flipping his collar up against the wind and grimacing as he tried to peer through snow. Though the wind had died down noticeably, the snow was still coming down hard and fast, and thus the streets were deserted. Most of the businesses hadn't been open, so the prince had to curtailed his errands, but he had found the few things he had wanted and some others. Jarvan looked over his shoulder and frowned slightly, trying to look through the snow, but he gave up and growled, tucking his gloved hands into his jacket pockets and held the bag of good under his arm. "Follow me."

"You keep asking smithies about one particular blacksmith." The sergeant major murmured as he followed along side the prince. "Surely if you wanted a piece of armor or arms crafted for yourself you can find a smithy who's just as good in the city. I bet even the Demacian Armory has a few smithies that are easily as good."

"It's not possessions I want from him. I want information." Jarvan huffed, his breath steaming as he shook his head. He cast a wary glance over his shoulder and then took a deep breath, letting it out slowly in a tired growl. "I need to know about a special pair of daggers he created for someone."

"I suppose that's why you visited the Merchant Guild's headquarters." The sergeant major said, his hand settling on the combat knife that hung on his waist. His brow darkened slightly for a moment as he stopped and looked back down the street they had come up, but he only watched the empty street for a few moments, peering through the snow before turning back to the prince, shaking his head.

"Something up, sarge?" Jarvan said, looking at the sergeant major with a bit of a frown.

"Hmmm..." The sergeant major growled as he glanced back over his shoulder, but he shook his head and gestured for the prince to keep going. "Nothing sir. Just my imagination." He fell back into step as Jarvan continued trudging through the snow. The sergeant looked to the prince. "And you're sure you have the right smith? I thought you didn't find any information out from the Merchant's Guild."

"I may not have found what I was looking for, but the lack of information may have told me almost as much as finding what I was looking for." Jarvan paused at an intersection, examining both of the narrow pathways that broke off of the street he stood on. "This way."

"But my contact in the Merchant's Guild said the records aren't there." The sergeant major growled thoughtfully. "How could you tell anything if the records weren't there?" The sergeant major worked his jaw for a moment and frowned, thinking. "Well, I suppose if the information wasn't in the Merchant Guild's records that means the daggers you're looking for were either made illegally due to the restrictions on weapon crafting, or they were clever fakes designed to look like the sword you examined in Lorcan's office." The sergeant major's brow darkened. "Either way-..." He stopped as Jarvan raised a hand to stop his train of thought.

"You're forgetting one possibility." Jarvan said with a thin smile.

"What?" The sergeant major growled, casting Jarvan a curious frown.

"The records were removed." Jarvan hissed ominously.

A moment of revelation turned to shock and then a dark frown on the sergeant major's face. "You mean-..."

Jarvan forestalled further comment with a nod. "The Merchant's Guild is guarded and monitored by the Demacian Government. With the strict policies regarding weapon crafting that were implemented at the end of the last great war due to the abuses of magic swords and other weapons, the creation of weapons in Demacia was strictly regulated by the government and the military. That means if the daggers were made within the last century, the records would have to be there." Jarvan frowned slightly. "Unless the merchant moved here after make the daggers, and even then he would have had to turn over his own records for inspection if he wanted a business license. That still means the daggers were created off the records and that's illegal in all of Demacia and most of the other city states and their holds."

"That's possible, but if the daggers were cast here in Demacia, that means there is something deviant going on. If the records were removed or destroyed..." The sergeant major grimaced and looked to Jarvan ominously, his face paler than normal. "Sir, this matter is extremely dangerous. This isn't something you should be dealing with on your own."

"Why do you think I brought you in on this?" Jarvan said with a thin smile. He stopped at the entrance to a narrow alleyway, looking back at the sergeant major. "You've got connections that run deep within all of the branches of the military. You've got the know how and the experience that makes a discreet investigation into Demacian high command possible. You served with my grandfather long enough that he trusts you with both his and my lives. That's enough reason for me to trust you." Jarvan's voice dropped to a menacing growl. "Unless you aren't up to the job?"

"A mole hunt, eh?" The sergeant major growled, scratching his jaw and meeting the prince's gaze as his expression turned from menacing and dangerous to a broad smile that was twisted and scary. "Lead the way, sir. I'm ready and willing."

Jarvan nodded and smiled, starting down the alley way. "I have to say, the most recent attack has me confused."

"What's confusing about an assassination attempt?" Perrywinkle grunted, casting an uncertain glare along the alley that Jarvan had disappeared down. He shook his head and followed the prince down the alley.

"They attack us, kill no one, and then run and hide." Jarvan said, frowning as he ducked around a trash bin. "Smell like an ambush to you, sarge?"

Perrywinkle grunted but shrugged, kicking an empty soup tin out of his way. "If they're close enough to kill us, we're close enough to kill them."

"Point made." Jarvan said with a knowing grin.

"Speaking of getting killed, where exactly are we going?" Perrywinkle growled, his gaze drifting over the snow covered courtyard the alley opened up into. It was unadorned, mostly covered in snow, only the vague outlines of trashcans, containers and other cast out rubbish barely discernible under the heavi blanket of snow that covered the ground. "I don't recognize this place."

"I'd be surprised if you did." Jarvan smirked. He paused, looking around the courtyard, watching the roof lines and frowning slightly. Something dark flashed along the roof line, and Jarvan raised his finger to his lips to silence the sergeant major as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Something up, sir?" The sergeant major whispered as he dropped into a defensive stance, his hand moving to his belt and the knife that hung from it. "Who goes there!?" He barked, stepping in front of the prince and raising an arm defensively across Jarvan's chest. "Show yourself!"

"Take it easy, sarge." Jarvan said, gesturing for the sergeant major to put his knife away. "She won't hurt us."

"She?" The sergeant major raised an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Jarvan nodded and turned back towards the roof line, cupping his hands around his mouth.

"Quinn!" Jarvan shouted into the wind, his eyes still following the edge of the roof line, looking for the young tracker somewhere in the swirling mass of freezing white weather. "Quinn, I know you're out there! Come out!"

There was a piercing shriek as a large bird, battling the snow and ice, dove down and nearly crashed into Jarvan. He held his arm out for the bird, though as it hovered close by, riding the wind currents, it watched him with its piercing golden eyes. Jarvan raised his arm, waiting as the Demacian eagle eyed him curiously.

"Remember me, Valor?" Jarvan said, again holding his arm out for the bird. It finally settled on his arm, rustling its feathers, its chest rising and falling rapidly from battling the elements. "You're pretty heavy for a bird you know?" Jarvan said, looking to the sergeant major, the man's normally unphased expression ruined by his mouth hanging open, dumbstruck. The bird squawked and swatted the prince's face with his blue feathered wing. "Ow, okay, okay." Jarvan grunted, chuckling softly. He reached out towards the bird gingerly, letting the eagle examine his hand before he stroked its head and the feather's along its chest.

"What in the world..." The sergeant major stammered, finally finding his voice, trying to recover his dignity. "Is that..."

"Meet Valor, one of the last remaining Demacian Eagles in Valoran." Jarvan said, stroking the bird's chin. "It's good to see your wing is healing well, Valor." The bird squawked, stretching his wings as he stepped along Jarvan's arm, nearly getting knocked over by a gust of wind that swept through the courtyard.

"This is the bird that belonged to that girl you saved from Demsec yesterday, right?" The sergeant major said, reaching towards it and then yanking his hand back as the eagle snapped its beak at him. "Stupid bird." Jarvan barely caught the last few words, but the derisive squawk from Valor showed that the bird had heard heard it. The sergeant major crossed his arms over his chest and eyed the bird suspiciously, as if he were having a staring contest with it.

Jarvan nodded. "Yep, this is him." He turned to the bird and glanced around the courtyard and frowned. "Valor, can you go and fetch Quinn for me? I need to speak with her." The eagle's head spun and he blinked his golden eyes as he glared at Jarvan for several moments before squawking again. He spread his wings and took over, immediately disappearing into the sky. Jarvan glanced over and grinned as he watched the sergeant major who was still staring off into the sky. "Come on, Sergeant Major. You gotta keep up."

"I'll try, sir." Perrywinkle muttered, frowning as his hand settled on his knife.

It wasn't more than ten minutes before a distant thump and then the slow trudging of footsteps through the snow signified the approach of someone else in the courtyard. Perrywinkle stepped forward, interceding himself between Jarvan and the approaching footsteps. He started to pull his knife out of its sheath, but Jarvan raised his hand dismissively to stop him. He only had the knife part way out of the sheath, but he didn't release the blade yet. A small human form faded out of the snow, the dark brown cloak casting an odd silhouette as the bird squawked and snapped its beak from the shoulder of the small feminine figure. The figure kneeled before Jarvan in a formal bow.

"You need not bow." Jarvan said, extending his hand and helping the young woman up.

"How did you know I was following you?" Quinn muttered, partially annoyed, partially impressed, pulling back her hood just enough to let her golden eyes shine in the dim light. A smile shown in her eyes as she tugged her scarf down and grinned at the prince. "Good to see that asshole didn't fuck with your head so much you'd let that get by you."

"I've actually had a sinking suspicion that you've been following me as best you could ever since I had you released." Jarvan said, grinning thinly. "I will say, I was a bit surprised you had Valor watching me, but when the sergeant major sensed something, and I couldn't see anyone, I figured someone was following us, and Valor's eyesight would be the best way in this sort of weather."

"Impressive." Quinn said, nodding, wearing a cocky smile as she shrugged, the bird shifting on her shoulder. "This snow is child's play for us. What can I do for you, prince?"

"I'm glad it is, because I have a favor to ask of you." Jarvan said seriously, taking Quinn by surprise. She furrowed her brow slightly as she glared at him. She finally crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. "I want you to keep an eye on Shyvana for me."

"Spying on your girlfriend?" Quinn said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Hardly seems proper. Don't you have have an entire brigade of intelligence spooks and assholes for that sort of thing? Or did you guys have a fight and you want me to make sure she's not fooling around?" The smile softened her teasing tone, but Jarvan's hardened frown quelled her jokes. "Something happened..." Her brow furrowed as she looked at the sergeant major and back to Jarvan. "You've got a bodyguard out here as well. You think she's in danger?"

The prince softened his frown slightly and nodded. "I'm afraid someone is either going to hurt her to get to me or try and hold her to use as leverage against me."

"Good luck with trying to hold her down..." Quinn muttered. "You can't lock up a force of nature."

"Which is why I'm worried." Jarvan growled, shaking his head. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling the wear and tear of the past 3 years catching up with him for a few brief moments. It was if the specters of all of his brethren were watching over him, the ominous presences swirling around him like the snow. "Last time they simply tried to have her killed off."

"If the threat is that serious, why don't you get one of your men look after her?" Quinn proposed, glancing at the sergeant major. He growled at her and the prospect of playing babysitter to someone who was less capable than his current boss. Quinn smiled cheekily, but she turned back to Jarvan as he shook his head. His eyes fell to the snow on the ground. The bags under his eyes and the wrinkles just starting to pull at the corners of his eyes spoke of the pain and trouble he had already suffered. Gone was the youthful vitality and energy that had sparkled in his pale blue eyes, replaced with the painful dull sheen of a man stretched too thin.

"I don't have many that I can trust." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "Forsythe is still in the hospital for who knows how long, Delancey is with Shy now, and the sergeant major here is serving as my bodyguard." Jarvan shook his head. "You're the only one left I can trust, Quinn."

The young tracker blushed, but nodded, surprised. "I suppose I can try and keep an eye on her." Quinn said, shrugging. "You're worried about that Jormander asshole trying to have her raped while she's in the hospital, aren't you?"

A dark and brooding look settled on Jarvan's face as he glared at Quinn. He nodded tersely. "I'll reward you for your time and efforts if you want..." Jarvan started to say, but Quinn shook her head and smiled.

"I'll do it." Quinn said nodding, looking to Valor.

"Thank you." Jarvan said, bowing his head, closing his eyes as he breathed a sigh of relief. He looked up and then blinked a few times, glancing left and right, looking for the young tracker.

She was gone.

"She do that often?" The sergeant major growled, looking up to a ledge just below the main roof line, his eyes following something along the roof until it disappeared into the heavy snow. "Surprisingly nimble though."

"Sometimes." Jarvan shrugged. "Come on, let's get back. I'm tired of being out in the cold."

"Sir." The sergeant major growled, his eyes still looking up to the roof.

…

_Squawk._

"He gives me some weird vibes too, Val." Quinn murmured as she fell back over the top of the roof-line, leaning over and peering down towards where Jarvan and the sergeant major headed back to the main road. "Though it's not as bad as that tall black haired one. Something's off about that one."

_Squa-squawk. _

"I can't do anything about it right now." Quinn muttered, frowning. She turned and looked out over the top of the houses, trails of smoke belching from chimneys in the cold air and snow. She frowned, scanning behind her along the tops of the houses for anyone following her. She shook her head and then sighed. "I'm getting too paranoid."

_Squawk._

"Yeah, I know they're out there somewhere." Quinn muttered, shivering as a gust of wind got under her hood. She pulled her scarf up over her face and turned to Valor, stroking his throat. "I need you to look after Jarvan for me, Val." The bird cocked his head to the side and cooed softly at her. Quinn blushed softly and shook her head. "Don't say it, stupid bir—OW!" Quinn rubbed her arm where the eagle had nipped her in protest. "Valor!" She started to swat the bird's head but he had already taken to the air and caught a gust of wind that carried him high and out of sight.

Quinn rubbed her arm, glaring at the bird as he rose out of sight, spiraling out of of view. "Stupid bird." She blushed, muttering. "I do _NOT_ have a crush on Jarvan!"


	27. Chapter 26: Bodyguard

Delancey blinked a few times to clear her vision and promptly yawned. She glanced around; Shyvana was still sleeping serenely, undisturbed as her chest rose and fell beneath the thick blankets. Delancey smiled, glad that there hadn't been any disturbances in the wee morning hours, and pulled herself to her feet. She ran her hands through her hair, tugging the blonde braid loose that wrapped the bun on the back of her head and took the time to straighten the locks as best she could. She combed her fingers through her hair a few times as she stood up, stretching her arms above her head. She looked at herself in the reflection of the window, frowning at the mess of blonde hair, her green eyes glimmering tiredly. She smiled at her reflection and noted that suddenly, the reflection didn't look so sad. She ran her hands over her tunic, straightening it as she looked around the room another time, glancing at the clock on the far wall of the hall and frowning.

"Well Shyvana, it's only been about 3 hours now." She sighed, and glanced to the window, the storm still blowing strong. "I wonder where the prince is now?" She waited for an answer and then glanced to Shyvana and hung her head. "Damnit. I am so bored." She muttered, looking into her empty coffee cup. She got to her feet and stretched her back with a yawn, tossing the blanket onto the chair and draping her jacket over her shoulders. She laced her belt through the loops on her trousers, making sure to thread all of her knife holsters into place and then pulled her jacket on, buttoning it up. She clipped her sword onto her belt and sighed at the heavy feel of the weapons on her hips, the comfort the weight provided giving her a bit more strength. She nodded to her reflection and smiled, clapping her cheeks a few times, taking a deep breath and shivering in the cool air. She ran her hands over her body one last time, making sure she had all of her weapons in place before she nodded to herself.

"Be right back, Shyvana." She said with a thin smile. "Don't go anywhere!" She chuckled at her own joke though the smile quickly turned to self loathing as she hung her head and pushed past the curtain.

Delancey hummed to herself softly as she pulled the door shut behind her, casting glances both directions along the academy hallway, taking note of the few occupants that wandered the corridor. There was a roving guard and several students who clutched books, their snow dusted jackets still pulled tight around them. Delancey frowned slightly, but checked the door one last time and turned to the right, taking off down the hall at a brisk pace. She strolled down the hallway, pausing and sticking her head into an empty classrooms. _I never did get the chance to look around the medical building while I was still at the Academy... They look utterly ordinary. _She sighed sadly. _Oh well._ She moved back into the corridor, moving a bit quicker to make up for lost time. She paused again before the large main staircase, looking up the stairs and frowning slightly. _I wonder what it's like up there... _She started to take a step towards the stairs but stopped, shaking her head. _Coffee and then back to the room. That's all I have time for._ She cast a longing look back towards the stairwell but pushed passed it, moving into the lobby. She glanced around and then smiled when she saw a woman in an Academy Staffer's uniform moving the coffee pot onto a cart.

"Excuse me, is there any coffee left?" Delancey said hopefully. The woman glanced back over her shoulder, a sympathetic smile on her face.

"Apologies, young lady, there isn't any left." She said, shaking her head as she set the pot down and rapped a knuckle on the pot, an empty clang resounding. She shrugged and then raised her hand as Delancey looked down trodden and saddened. "I'll tell you what, you're with the prince, right?"

Delancey nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but she narrowed her eyes and frowned slightly. The woman chuckled, extending a hand to accept the mug from Delancey. "Don't worry, young'n, everyone knows. It's the talk of the campus. I'll bring a fresh pot and some more mugs and everything in a few, alright?"

"Sure," Delancey said happily. "Thanks!"

"Of course." The staffer said, nodding and turning back to her coffee pot. Delancey cast one last look at the woman but shrugged it off, heading back towards the room. She nodded at a couple of fresh faced Academy cadets, two young girls who giggled and pointed at Delancey's uniform. The sergeant clasped her hands behind her back, stretching the sergeant's patch and the crossed swords of the royal guard patch flat along her shoulder. The two cadet's eyes went wide and they snapped to attention, saluting promptly.

Delancey returned a casual salute. "As you were." She said officiously, though her voice sounded funny even to her. She coughed at the sound but kept walking, ignoring the giggles from behind. She cast a quick looked over her shoulder, but the only thing she saw was the flutter of a skirt disappearing around a corner and the clicking of heels on the stairs. Delancey giggled to herself and smiled. _I can see why officers like saying that._

As she returned to the room she noticed that the heavy wooden doors had been left ajar. "I could have sworn I closed the door..." She whispered to herself. She glanced down both of ends of the corridor, but there was no one left in the silent hall. Delancey pushed the door in tepidly, making sure it didn't make any noise. She slid through the door and listened silently in case anyone called her out or turned on her. Delancey carefully closed the door, turning the knob and sliding it closed, setting the heavy beam in place that barricaded the door from within. A relic from the Academy's early days as both a school and a fortress, most of the doors still maintained the heavy barricades just in case the school were ever to be besieged. Delancey again remained completely silent and listened for anything that could be threatening. When she didn't hear anything, she started to creep along the wall of curtains towards where Shyvana was lain up in bed. She dropped to a crouch and crept the last few feet to the open curtain and listened carefully, a deep voice coming from within.

"Well Shyvana, it seems like we've been here before." The voice said evenly. It was deep and though it was only a touch gravelly, the voice was serene, as if it had been softened by pain. "Last time I saw you like this, Jarvan was lain up with wounds even worse than yours. Where is that jerk anyways?" The voice chuckled, though it was subdued and it was followed by a heavy sigh. "I'd like to give him what for after he left you here alone. That dumb, conceited, lucky bastard..." Another sigh came from within the curtained off area. "If I were him, I would never let a girl a,s cute as you out of my sight." There was another sad chuckle from within. "I'm really sorry that it had to come to this though. No one should have to deal with something this horrifying, and even now you're just going to have to suffer more."

Delancey carefully drew her sword, only the faintest sound of ringing steel as she pulled it from her scabbard and held it before her. _Alright Del, time to be a hero! _She look a step back and raised the sword up and over her body, slashing the curtain along the top, just beneath the rings that held it to the metal bar. The curtain pooled on the floor and she stepped in, immediately bringing the sword up to the man's neck, resting the steel against his flesh.

"He didn't leave her alone!" Delancey announced. "Step away from her!"

The man was easily as tall as Jarvan, and though he wasn't quite as broad in the shoulders and his build was a bit thinner compared to the barrel-chested prince, he was just a heavily muscled. He took a half stumbling step backwards as he tried to turn, surprise clear on his face, his one blue eye shimmering with shock. His pale blonde hair was long and tousled by the eye patch he wore over his left eye. A wicked looking scar curved out from under the eye patch, disappearing in his hair line and racing down along his jaw. He raised his hands defensively as he tried to step away from Delancey's blade but she kept it pressed to his neck. He didn't wear a uniform, simply wearing a dark blue tunic and pants, simple armor plating on his fore arms and chest. A gray cloak rode on his shoulders, metal pauldrons strapped around his arms.

"Hold on now..." he stammered, trying to speak, but Delancey shook her head and raised her sword up towards him, pointing it directly at his nose as she glared at him. "This isn't what it looks like..."

"Sure." Delancey snarled. "I bet you're here on orders from Jormander, aren't you?"`

"What?" The man said, eying her blade, his brow creasing. "Who the hell is Jormander?"

"You're not with him?" Delancey blinked a few times, surprised. "That means..." Her eyes grew wide as dinner plates and her sword began to tremble in her hands. "Get back!"

"Whoa!" The man said, pushing the blade away from his nose with a single finger. "I don't know what the hell you're going on about, but I'm not _with_ anyone."

"Exactly!" Delancey hissed, drawing her sword back to strike. "You failed to kill her once before and came back to try again? Die, you bastard!"

"Wha—wait!" The man ducked, stumbling backwards and bumping into the bed. He dropped and rolled as her sword arced bare millimeters above his nose, dropping and rolling to the side. He hit the ground and rolled immediately onto his stomach, lashing out at Delancey's legs.

She yelped as her feet were swept out from under her, sending her sprawling onto the ground. She rolled backwards and tucked her legs into her chest as the man started to get to his feet. Delancey uncoiled her body impossibly fast, striking his shoulder with both of her feet and sending herself back towards the ground. She rolled into it, again coiling her body up and then exploding up to her feet, her hand going to her thigh and producing throwing knives. The soldier blinked twice as he stumbled backwards and immediately dove, crashing through the wall of curtains and sending a cart crashing to the ground, scattering medical instruments and trays everywhere. He rolled into the curtains as Delancey hurled the knives. He slapped the ground and launched a shining metal tray into the air, grabbing the shining tray in hand, putting it between himself and the incoming knives.

They landed with three sharp _clangs_, the metal reverberating in his hand. His face paled as he looked at the polished steel that had punched through the tray, again coming much too close for comfort. He ran his finger along the tip of the razor sharp knife and then shook his head, a single rivulet of blood forming on his finger. He dropped the tray and got to his feet, though he kept his stance low and ready to roll out of the way. "Jeez, what's with this bitch?"

"Go fuck yourself!" Delancey spat vehemently, pulling more knives from her leg holsters and letting them fly in a single smooth motion. The blonde rolled out of the way, the knives hitting the floor and bouncing away, disappearing behind the curtains. Delancey hissed a quite curse, bringing her sword up and looking for the man. Something glinted just inside her field of vision, a brief glimmer of something dangerous and steel flashing as she jumped out of the way. A medical tray and two surgical knives went fluttering past her face, catching some of her blue-died forelocks. The hairs fluttered to the ground.

"Wha-..." She stammered, blinking as the man came up, holding a broom. She started, shaking her head as he held the weapon up as if it were a sword. She let her blade fall just a bit as she glared at him disbelievingly. "You... you've got to be kidding me."

"What, too afraid?" He said in a challenge, snapping the bottom of the broom, bristles and all off of the stick. "Come at me little girl, let's see if you're truly fit to serve the prince."

Delancey looked surprised from a moment, but the challenge hardened her resolve and she shifted to a two handed grip, keeping the weapon high.

"Don't blame me if you get hurt!" She charged, bringing the blade up as she leaped forth, bringing the blade down towards him, hard, snarling as she aimed directly for his head. He parried the blade with the broomstick, completely taking her by surprise. She blinked a few times and took a half step back as he met the downwards slash with sheer power, shrinking back and letting the blade come just long enough to let her think she had the advantage. She wore a victorious smile, but he powered on and pushed back with the broomstick, lifting her entire body up, tossing her away as if it were nothing. She snarled as she tumbled end over end, dropping and rolling away, sticking a foot out to catch herself out, sliding a few feet.

"How did you..." She stammered, looking at the broomstick in his hand. There was a fairly deep gash in the wood, but because he had softened the blow by letting her blade come, most of the cutting force had simply been held by the wood as if it were dull as a butter knife.

"Anything can be a weapon." He said with a shrug, grinning cockily. "No need for polished shield or expensive knives." He chuckled, tapping the length of broomstick in his opposite hand, admiring the notch that had been cut in the wood. "Hell, the best weapon I can think of is a good old rock. They're easily the most useful thing a soldier can possess."

"You talk to much!" Delancey said, shaking her head, having caught herself thinking about the words the man spoke. "Just who are you?"

"Ah, you should have asked that first instead of attacking." He said, chuckling again, still examining the wooden stick he carried. He held it up in both hands, grinning. Delancey started as he dashed forth, his speed impossibly fast. _He's good._ The broomstick came towards her in a broad horizontal stroke, the sergeant barely bringing the sword up in time to parry the strike. The wood cracked against her blade, the steel humming in her hand as she staggered backwards a half step. He used the ricochet of the wood on the steel to wheel the wooden blade up in an overhand strike, bringing it down towards her head. She brought her blade up to parry again, sinking further back as he pressed the advantage. The ricochet bounced the wood up again and he wheeled about, coming from the left.

_He's very good..._ Delancey felt her heel hit something like cloth, the feeling molding and bouncing back as the metal bar sprung the cloth from under her foot. She realized she had backed up against the curtains that hid the beds from the hall. _But his size and aggression can easily be used against him! The eye patch! A blind spot!_ She brought her blade up and parried the man's wooden sword, bouncing it up out of reach above his head, taking him by surprise. He immediately retreated out of her reach as she swept the blade down and around, spinning towards him, striking out towards his gut along his left side, up towards his blind spot. Her sword brushed through his cloak, cutting a gash into the gray fabric. She snarled as she realized she been suckered in, her over zealousness driving her blade further than she had intended, cutting nothing but air as the man swept up towards her. _He's scary good! And he knows how to use and control his size, too! _He brought the wooden broom handle down across her wrists, the woman hissing and snarling as she jumped away, her hands numbed from the force of the blow. She didn't drop her sword, but as she turned to try and face him again, he spun and brought the wooden handle up under her guard, driving it into her side.

Delancey snarled in pain and gasped for breath, winded as the weight of her armor suddenly hung on her like solid lead. She started to bring her weapon up to strike, but the man had already spun away, showing his back to her. She brought the blade up to strike, but the man brought his hands down towards his stomach, the wood driving up to meet her stomach in an backwards thrust. Delancey hissed as she dropped backwards, the wood striking at her stomach and sending her crashing to the ground.

"You... Bas... tard..." She hissed as she scrabbled about for her blade, panting breathlessly. Her hand groped for the blade, but as she finally found the weapon, he leaned forward and stepped on the blade. She glared up at him with fire in her eyes, but as she looked into the darkness of the eye patch and the clear blue of his eye, she found no malice. He grinned and offered her a simple shrug, sis eyebrow rising and falling quickly as if to say _'Sucks to be you, eh'_?

"I can't let you do that." He said with a grin. "Sorry, cutie." She glared up at him with anger darkening her green eyes, frustration furrowing her brow. She tried to jerk the blade from under his foot, but it did not budge. "Surely you've more to give than that." The man murmured, keeping a foot on the blade as he leaned on the wooden blade as if it were a cane. He frowned as he glared down at her with his single blue eye, though after a few long moments, he offered her a warm smile and a glance at her body. He waved a casual salute of departure and kicked the sword out of her reach, turning away and starting towards the door.

_You may think yourself clever... but I have a few tricks of my own._ Delancey got to her feet, grimacing slightly as she held her stomach, but shook head and stood up straighter, drawing two throwing knives, one smaller, one larger.

The towheaded man made a mad dash for the doorway at the sound of her drawing the blades, dropping to the ground into a diving slide as a throwing knife swished through the air, just above his head. He kicked himself up, rolling to his feet as he barreled towards the door. He started to take the barricade off of the door, but Delancey whistled at him and he turned to glance at her. She was twirling a wicked looking knife through the air, the intricately decorated and polished steel carving a glittering, twirling arc through the air with every toss.

"You're not getting away from me!" Delancey shouted, hauling back and throwing the large knife with all of her strength, the weapon spinning end over end. The large blonde man ducked out of the way, yelping as the knife tore through his cloak.

"Hah!" He snarled, grinning, yanking his cloak free of the knife. "You missed!"

"Not likely." Delancey said with a thin smile. The blonde man frowned slightly, glancing back over his shoulder at the door. The knife had sunk deep into the wooden door, just above the barricade. He frowned and grabbed the barricade, jiggling it slightly against the knife, but it wouldn't budge. He grabbed the knife and tugged on it, grimacing, the weapon sunk all the way up to the guard.. He snarled as he braced his foot on the door, heaving and tugging on the blade with all his might.

"Well, fuck." The blonde snarled, shaking his head. He sighed and turned to face her, scratching at his head along one of the bands of his eye patch. He glared at Delancey for a moment before frowning, narrowing his eyes and peering at her face a little bit harder. "Hey I recognize you..."

Delancey's eyes went wide and she dropped low. "You're with the bastards who've been following us? You helped ambush the prince once before!"

"What? No..." The towheaded intruder started to say, shaking his head.

"I don't want to hear it!" Delancey launched herself forward, swinging her sword in a broad sweeping slash as she charged. The intruder stamped his foot on a metal surgical tray, sending it jumping up to his hand. He grabbed it and spun it like a discus towards her feet as she sprinted forth. She slipped as she swung the blade, crashing towards the blade, The man jumping over the blade as it hit the door, low, dropping down with one foot landing on the blade and the other the stone floor. He kneeled down slightly as she dropped and hit the ground, the blade nearly jerked from her hand. She stumbled and dropped to the ground, as the man kneeled down towards her. She tugged on the sword once as she tried to push herself up, but the weight of his foot and the fact that her sword had gotten jammed in the door prevented it from budging.

"Get off!" She scowled angrily, glaring up at him as he kneeled down, a smile on his face. She was taken aback as he rested an arm on his knee, watching her face quietly for a few moments.

"Not likely..." The towheaded man said with a grin, his smile sly and knowing. She spluttered for a few moments, but she blushed furiously when he looked her body up and down, his eyes hovering over her chest plate for a few moments.

"You're a pig!" She snarled, dropped her hold on the blade and rolling backwards as his hand came up to touch her cheek. She rolled to her feet, drawing a wicked pair of knives, the guards protected by knuckledusters around each of her fingers. She flexed her fingers around the handles, grinning happily, ready for the attack to come. "I suppose someone needs to teach you some manners. Looks like I'll have to do it."

"You know, if you'd let your hair down, you'd be pretty cute." The towheaded soldier said, stroking his chin with a crooked grin. "I do think the blue is a bit odd, but... You're spunky. It's fitting. I like it." He chuckled softly. Delancey shook her head, her face blushed a deep red. "What, cat got your tongue? Or perhaps... you don't get off on battle, do you? Cause that's totally hot."

"I'm going to make you eat those words!" Delancey shouted, her fists now trembling in anger, her face beet red.

"Anything that you've got, I'll gladly take a bite." He said, again looking her up and down. He yanked her sword from the door and tossed it from hand to hand, eying the blade with a frown. "A bit to short and a bit too light for my tastes." He grunted and tossed the blade away, looking about for something more appropriate, ignoring Delancey as she raised the blades up, holding them in front of her face in a fighting stance. He finally shrugged, examining the battered broom handle as he shifted it from hand to hand.

"Then eat steel!" Delancey launched herself forward as he danced away. Though she was quicker, he had longer strides and he could propel himself further with every step. Every time Delancey moved in to strike, he danced away as if he had no cares, smiling as he slid around her twin short blades. Her face was growing redder and redder, though now it was from anger rather than embarrassment.

She launched herself forward in a flurry of blades, silver flashing brilliantly as she snarled, her attacks aimed at speed rather than the strength offered by a sword. Though her attacks were faster, his reactions were just as quick, now holding the center of the stick, bouncing it back and forth, twisting it about and bouncing the large knives back strike by strike. She brought both knives back across her chest, her arms forming a cross as she kicked forward, lashing out at him with ferocity that look him by surprise. He took a step back, giving Delancey her chance as he ducked out of the way of her blades and she dropped to a crouch, glaring up at him with emerald green eyes that burned with fire. She exploded upwards at him, striking at him with her knee. He tried to catch her attack with the broom handle, but it cracked in half under her weight and the many gashes inflicted by her sword.

He snarled and he lashed out, landing a fist on her jaw and tossing her backward. She hit the ground hard and rolled, getting tossed her end over end. She slid along the ground, finally crashing against a wall in a heap.

"Y-you... you know how to fight..." She panted heavily as she started to push herself to her feet, though she was much slower to get up this time. She started to push herself up, but the towheaded man stepped forward and cracked both of her hands with the remnants of his broom handle. She hissed angrily as pain coursed through her hands. He kicked both knives away from her as she recoiled, ducking back and scrambling along the floor away from him. As she backed away, sitting on her tail and pushing herself away, her hand struck something metal that clattered on the ground. She looked over and her heart swelled as she grasped her sword. His boot descended on the blade again, another knowing grin on the man's face as he glared at her with his one eye. _Maybe... if only I had another chance..._

"You know, I feel like we've been here before." He mused, mockingly. He leaned down slightly, meeting her glare earnestly. "You may be cute, but if you keep this up, you're going to end up hurting yourself." He wore a smug grin as he chuckled, standing up straight.

"I'm not done quite yet." Delancey panted as she gasped for breath. A heavy _THUD_ came from the doorway, followed by the incessant pounding of fists. "Heh, looks like you're out of time, mongrel."

"Open up!" A muffled voice ordered from beyond the heavy doors. "Open up! This is the military police!"

"How did..." The blonde man glowered at the young woman and she shrugged, arching her eyebrow in a looked that looked mockingly familiar.

"Looks like you're shit out of luck." Delancey said, taking advantage of the man's moment of distraction. She rolled over her shoulder and brought her legs up, together, in a lightning quick motion, starting her body spinning on the square of her back, spreading her legs as she pushed herself up. She lashed out at the man with a spinning kick, her armored boots striking his legs as she rotated her hips about. He grunted as he sunk back, the doors coming crashing inwards as Delancey scooped up her blade and dove at him, slicing straight through the broom handle. He snarled angrily as she forced him back, ducking backwards, a crossbow bolt passing just over his head.

"Stop right there, criminal scum!" A guardsman shouted as he shouldered past the doorway's remnants, a heavy granite statue laying shattered on the ground as another guard pushed through the remnants of the door.

"Don't shoot!" The towheaded man shouted angrily, though he yelped and threw himself to the ground, snarling as another crossbow bolt passed over his head. "Fuck!" He beamed the smaller half of the wooden broom handle directly at the first guard, catching him on the temple and sending him crashing down onto the ground.

"You punk!" The second hissed, dropping his crossbow and starting to draw the bowstring back as quickly as he could. "I'm going to make you pay for that, scum!" He started to raise his crossbow, but the blonde soldier was too quick. He launched himself forward, cracking the stick over top of the second guard's head and sending him crashing to the ground.

"Bastards." The man in the eye patch grumbled, though he looked over their gear. He frowned gently and then scowled, shaking his head. "Fat, corrupt policemen working as security guards for extra cash. Serves you right." The first guard moaned and started to get up, but the towheaded man promptly kicked him in the temple and dropped him back to the ground.

"I hope you're ready." Delancey hissed as she wiped blood from her chin where the one-eyed man had battered her.

"You know it." He hissed, chuckling with a grin. He pulled a sword from one of the guard's belts, eying the blade. He looked to her with an excited grin, holding the blade in front of him and tapping the tip of his sword against hers. "Bring it on."

* * *

Jarvan started up the steps to the Academy's Medical School and Infirmary building, trudging against the heavy snow. The structure was one of the oldest parts of Demacia, much older than much of the current city, dating back to the very beginning of the nation's history. Part of the original campus, the building was amazingly ancient, dating back to before the rune wars. It had roots with the very origins of the city-state, when Demacia was just beginning to form up around the fortress like school. When the seat of power in the surrounding lands had been overrun, the nobles and the king at the time retreated to the city and made it the new bastion of power. From there, the strength of the city began to grow as it beat back the enemy advance and turned the tide of the war. It became the official seat of power, eventually growing to become one of the greatest powers on the entire continent.

Jarvan pushed the door open and stepped inside, the sergeant major following behind as he pulled the door shut as a gust of wind blew through the open door, snow billowing along the ground and quickly melting as it settled on the stone flagons. Jarvan blew warm air into his hands as he approached the fire of the lobby.

"Would you like some coffee, sir?" The sergeant major asked, glancing around the room.

Jarvan nodded. "Please."

"Stay here, I shall return in just a moment, sir." The sergeant major turned and gestured for the two guards to keep watch, and they both nodded.

Jarvan held his hands out to the fire, keeping his brown paper package tucked under his arm. Jarvan watched as a woman with golden blonde hair and royal blue eyes approached down a side hallway, casting a withering glance at the prince before she continued past him deeper into the lobby. Jarvan blinked a few times, surprised. She was pretty, that was for sure, but the dismissive way she looked at him caught the prince off guard. Usually women blushed and giggled when they looked at him, paying him attention no matter what he did. The woman approached another woman, this one in a Demacian Army Medic's uniform. She draped an arm over the younger looking woman, the medic's green eyes and auburn hair gleaming in the fire light. The taller blonde woman blushed slightly as she spoke to the green-eyed, auburn haired woman, leaning on her heavily as they blushed and laughed together.

_Oh... Ohhhhhh. I suppose that explains it._ The prince shook his head and chuckled softly.

"Your highness!" The sergeant major's summons snapped Jarvan out of his dazed state and brought him crashing back to Runeterra. He looked over to where the sergeant major stood in the entrance way to the corridor that lead to Shyvana's room. His chest rose and fell rapidly as if he had been running. He jerked a thumb back over his shoulder towards the corridor. "You need to see this!"

_If he's shaken then..._ Jarvan's stomach collapsed in as he dashed off, falling in behind the sergeant major. The door to Shyvana's hall had been busted in, a squarish indentation on the wood, and a granite statue with a similarly sized square base laying smashed on the ground. A guard in a security uniform lay sprawled out on the ground just inside the entrance, a red mark directly in the center of his head. "What happened here?" Jarvan hissed. The sergeant major shrugged and drew his knife, holding it before him as he peered through the door. He kept his eyes on the inner room and he kneeled down, checking the first guard's pulse, and nodded to the prince.

_Alive. Good. _Jarvan gestured towards the door and made a fist, jerking his hand down abruptly to signal a strike. The sergeant frowned but nodded. Jarvan stepped over the first wounded guard, surprise clear on his face and dread pooling in his stomach. He kneeled down over the second guard as the sergeant major stepped towards him.

"It's not safe, sir." Perrywinkle hissed, but Jarvan rolled his eyes, listening to the sound of clashing steel that came from the far end of the hall.

"No shit." the prince growled. "He's alive, but until I know that Shyvana is well, I'm not leaving."

"Sir..." The sergeant major growled menacingly. "This isn't the time to get emotional."

"Who's emotional?" Jarvan snapped, cracking his neck. "I'm going to make whoever did this pay, and you can't convince me not to."

"Fine." The sergeant major said, offering the prince an exasperated sigh. "Shut up and get behind me."

Jarvan offered him a thin grin. "Very well, sergeant major. Lead the way."

As they moved through the room, they quickly found Shyvana alive and well, still tucked into her bed, though instead of the serene expression Jarvan had left her with, her brow was creased. She wore a frown, tossing and turning as the echoing sound of steel crashing together echoed from down the large hall. "I'll be right back." Jarvan cooed softly, giving Shyvana's hand a brief squeeze. He tapped the sergeant major on the shoulder and glanced left towards the entrance as the sergeant major pushed deeper into the hall. Steel on steel rang aloud, not far away now. Something shuddered at the far end of the hall, sparks showering as a sword crashed into the stone wall.

Pale blonde hair bounced backwards and blue and golden blonde danced forward as steel rung with steel again.

Jarvan grunted and ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. "God damn it, what are those two idiots doing?"

"Sir?" The sergeant major growled, looking back at the prince. "What's going on?"

"Delancey is duking it out with Forsythe." Jarvan sighed heavily again, running his hands over his face.

"Forsythe?" The sergeant major echoed, though he didn't lower his combat knife, continuing to hold it between himself and the two fighters. Jarvan nodded.

"Corporal Ellington Forsythe." Jarvan said softly. "He's the last remaining member of Exemplar Company."

...

Forsythe swung the heavy great sword and locked blades with Delancey, finally driving her onto her back foot. She hit the ground and kneeled as Forsythe tried to force his blade down, but she angled her sword as she tried to support it, letting his blade slide free and strike the ground. He brought his arm down in a flat motion, sliding off the bottom of the sword's grip, producing a blade into his free hand. He gripped the small dagger, snapping it up to shiv the blonde sergeant as she spun and brought her sword around in a windmill blow. She slid a foot back and jumped out of the way of his attack. The blade brushed past her cheek, a thin red line and a rivulet of blood appearing on her cheek. She snarled as she ducked his next attack and pressed the advantage, as the blonde man struggled to get his sword up. He started to raise the blade up, but Delancey stepped back in and slammed his chest with her shoulder, sending him stumbling as he yelped, falling backwards. He rolled his hand, feeling the sword roll along the back on his hand, reversing his grip, the polished steel now extending along his arm rather than as an extension. He started to bring his blade up, the tip scraping along the stone ground, sparks flying as he wheeled around in a wide are above his head to bring down across his body in a heavy diagonal strike. Delancey matched his stance, bringing the pommel up first, striking the pommel of his blade with her own.

"What?" He hissed angrily as the blades bounced apart, completely stopping his swing. She let one hand slide off the bottom of her sword, bringing it up and slapping his arm aside. She brought her arm to her chest and struck his hand with her elbow, driving the blade further back. She straightened her arm and slugged his cheek, stunning him. As he opened his mouth to yelp, she tucked a knee to her chest and kicked off of him, using Forsythe like a wall to jump off of to give herself extra distance between them, sending him staggering back. The blond haired soldier used his sword to keep himself from collapsing, the tip sending sparks up as it scraped the floor. She spun and let the last two of her dagger's fly.

Forsythe brought the great sword up, spinning it and slapping the first throwing dagger out of the air. The second didn't connect directly either, though it scrapped his his cheek, leaving a gash on his cheek. It snagged the eye patch and ripped it from his face. He crashed to the ground, catching himself using the sword in one hand and dropping to one knee. He covered his ruined eye with one hand, hissing angrily, as he glared up at his blonde opponent. A smile slid onto his face as he pressed two fingers into the stinging sensation on his cheek, pulling his hand back to look at his blood covered fingers. He brought the blade up and locked with her, holding her back, the blades grinding together inbetween the both of them.

"You're good," He said, starting to pressure her harder. "But I'm better." She grinned and then let the top of her sword slide back, swirling his blade aside and knocking it away. Her blade coming up under his chin. He blinked a few times as his smile broadened, a thin smile on her face now.

"And you're cocky, cyclops." She said, pushing the blade forwards slightly. He took a half step backwards as she matched his retreat with slow, shuffling steps forwards.

"Okay, maybe you're better than I gave you credit." He growled, blonde hair falling down over the left side of his face. "Doesn't change how cute you are." He offer her a smile, but the sergeant's smile faded as she blushed deeply.

"Shut up." Delancey snapped as she panted, anger contorting her face. She reached over her shoulder and produced a knife, snapping her arm forward and letting the blade fly. Forsythe ducked and did the same, reaching back over his shoulder and producing a hatchet, tossing it into the air and letting it fly as soon as he caught it, an ambitious and malicious smile on his face. He sunk down as Delancey had to drop to the ground to duck the weapon. She grumbled as she pushed herself up, holding her sword in front of her face.

"What, getting tired already?" Forsythe said with a thin grin. "Maybe..." He tossed his head to the side, flipping his hair back over his head, clearing the blonde locks from his face. He grinned coldly as her sword faltered, dropping away.

"You-... your face... your eye..." She whispered. Her sword hit the ground and she took a step backwards, horror and fear contorting her face.

"Got your attention now?" Forsythe said, starting to drop his weapon. "I'm not your enemy."

"But you..." She shook her head and snarled. "Don't lie to me!" She raised her weapon and charged him, bringing the sword up above her head and, starting to bring it down in a slash aimed directly for his neck. She glared at him as she swung the blade, the hole in his head glaring back at her like a demonic black hole, the single blue eyes watching her evenly, and though he faced certain death, his eye was deathly serious, as though it were empty and cold.

"ENOUGH!"

The blade passed mere millimeters from Forsythe's face, slicing through his hair. Terror filled Delancey's heart, though as she watched his face, he did not flinch at all, his eye remained almost void of life.

"Shyvana..." Jarvan whisper, surprised, finally making his presence known to the two soldiers, watching as she stepped over the destruction towards the two dueling swordsmen. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" Shyvana walked past him and then stopped close to both Delancey and Forsythe. She dropped her face to the ground and her fists began to shake with anger, the thin nightgown that she wore quivering and starting to flutter as flames began to sparkle and dance on the floor around her.

"Forsythe! Delancey!" She snarled, taking them both by surprise. Delancey looked to Forsythe who grunted but shook his head and looked up to the dragoness. Delancey blushed slightly as she looked at him and then back to the dragoness. Her eyes burned a brilliant magenta, though gold shimmered in them menacingly.

"Y-yes?" Delancey stammered nervously.

Shyvana stepped up to them and grabbed them both by the collar, lifting them both off of their feet at the same time. "SHUT UP! I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!" Shyvana summarily tossed them both over her shoulder as she spun, the sergeant landing on top of Forsythe in a pile of spilled weapons and tangled limbs. Shyvana huffed and started back towards the prince, shaking her head as she grumbled under her breath, her thick red braid swinging behind her as she hobbled her way over the destruction Delancey and Forsythe had caused.

"So you're not trying to harm Shyvana and I?" Delancey squeaked as she pushed herself up on Forsythe's chest, looking down at him sheepishly.

"I tried to tell you, but you didn't want to listen." Forsythe grumbled, frowning at her. "Corporal Ellington Forsythe, Exemplar Company of the Eighth King's Guard Battalion... or I was." He offered her his hand at an awkward angle, the woman accepting it after a few moments of looking at it.

"Sergeant Vivian Delancey, First Demacian Royal Guards Battalion." She shook his hand and blushed slightly as she pulled herself from his lap. Jarvan laughed aloud, watching as Shyvana stomped her way back up to the prince, leaving the sergeant and the corporal to untangle themselves. Shyvana sucked a deep breath in and exhaled it slowly, unclenching her hands and looking up at the prince with sleep laden eyes as she calmed herself.

"Jarvan, dearest..." She murmured, her voice fading as she yawned, the prince blushing slightly as he looked down at her. She grabbed his tunic and leaned up against him as she rested her head against his chest.

"Yes, Shy?" Jarvan said nervously. Shyvana leaned back and looked up at him, pushing herself up onto her tip toes as she laced her hands around the prince's neck. She simultaneously pulled herself up and pulled him down, kissing his deeply.

"Next time..." She whispered, dropping back slightly as she looked up at him with warm magenta eyes. "Do try and keep them quiet. I can deal with your snoring but not this level of commotion." She shot Forsythe and Delancey a dirty look as she dropped away from her prince.

"I'll try." Jarvan said, blushing fiercely. Shyvana smiled as she glanced away, looking to the ground and then back up at the prince for a moment, blushing softly and then glancing back to the ground. Jarvan ran a hand over her hair, cupping her cheek and smiling at her, lifting her face to meet his gaze. "What can I do for you, my love?"

"I... well..." She stammered sheepishly, still blushing as she glanced away from his face, refusing to meet his gaze. He stroked her cheek gently with his thumb. She blinked a few times, taking the prince by surprise as she batted her eyelids coyly. "I'm really hungry... can you bring some good food later?" Jarvan chuckled aloud and leaned down and kissed her gently, nodding as he slowly pulled back.

"Of course." Jarvan said softly. "Now get some rest." Shyvana blushed and nodded happily as she dropped away and headed towards the bed, waving slightly over her shoulder as she pushed past Jarvan.

"We can talk more later." She said with a gently smile, her voice growing faint. "I'm tired."

"Of course, love." Jarvan said, nodding, his gaze following her as she started back to the bed.

Sergeant major Perrywinkle grunted, shivering. "They were right, she _IS_ terrifying when she's angry."

Jarvan wore a thin smile and chuckled softly. "She can be, yes..."

"I didn't quite reali—sir!" The sergeant major pointed to the prince's tunic. Jarvan's smile fell slightly as he looked down at his tunic, crimson blood staining the side of his tunic in a long red slash.

"What the..." Jarvan spun, ice settling in his stomach like pure dread coalesced into a tangible form. Jarvan turned and looked to where Shyvana was collapsed on the ground, a pool of blood starting to form on the ground around her. "SHYVANA!"


	28. Chapter 27: Breakdown

Jarvan leaned forward and ran a hand over his face, looking over the dragoness as she was laid out in her bed. She was bone white as sweat beaded on her forehead, and even her brilliant red hair seemed to lack some of its natural luster. A nurse wiped her forehead dry and then laid a cool cloth across her forehead after she wrung it dry. The nurse pulled the blankets back up over Shyvana as the doctor sighed, shaking his head, pulling gloves from his hands and tossing them away onto a small cart that was laden down with medical equipment.

"How is she?" Jarvan asked expectantly. The doctor shrugged again and sighed heavily, sticking his hands in his pockets, looking at the dragoness with scorn.

"She tore her wound open and lost a lot of blood." He gestured to a clear glass bottle that hung upside down from what looked like a wire metal coat rack. "I've set her up with a saline drip to try and get some fluids back into her body, but like I said... she lost a lot of blood. She should be fine, but she can't move around much. She shouldn't be moving from the bed at all, but I know that you're not exactly one to talk to her about that." The doctor gave him a scornful glare, though the prince didn't offer anything as the doctor shook his head. "Just keep her motionless as soon as she gets up. The professor should be along shortly and they can tell you better what to do."

"I'll keep a close eye on her." The prince said nodding sternly, frowning slightly at the doctors unreserved annoyance.

"Do that." The doctor shook his head. "She can eat whatever she wants, she just needs to be more careful about moving. It's been a long time since we had to treat magical wounds this harsh, but given enough time, the aversion to medical salves should revert." The wall eyed stare caused the doctor to roll his eyes. "She'll be able to use health potions in a few days."

"How long?" Jarvan asked, frowning, looking to where the wound still lingered on the dragoness' hip.

"A few days?" The doctor shrugged.

"That's hardly scientific." Jarvan growled almost menacingly.

"If you want a better answer, you can ask the professor later on." The doctor said dismissively. "She's the expert we originally moved your friend here to see. She's a professor here at the school, experienced with magic, medicine and biology. She can answer all of your questions when she arrives."

"Fine, thanks." Jarvan grumbled, rolling his eyes at the doctor, looking to Shyvana. He sighed heavily as the doctor and the nurse retreated from sight, moving out of the hall and heading out of the door where two men worked on repairing some of the damages. They had just started hanging a door, but the stone and wood was proving uncooperative at the moment, considering the tools they had at hand. Jarvan watched them labor absentmindedly for a few moments.

"How are you feeling, captain?" Forsythe said as he approached, sitting on the bed next to Shyvana's, glancing at the prince and then looking at the destroyed curtains and racks that they he and Delancey had torn down in their fight. The prince followed his gave around the room and shook his head, grumbling softly as he ran his hands over his face.

"I really, _REALLY_ should knock you out, but right now, I'm just too damn tired." Jarvan muttered, running his hands through his hair to clear the messy black locks from his faced and glowering as he laid back and sighed heavily, sinking deeper in the chair. "Why exactly were you and Delancey having a damned grudge match in the Medical College?"

"Oh." Forsythe muttered sheepishly, looking to the ground in front of him and working his hands nervously, twiddling his thumbs over what looked like a small fragment of rock. "Well..."

"That was my fault, sir!" Delancey barked nervously, snapping to attention at the foot of the bed. Jarvan shushed her and glared, but after a few moments he sighed and shook his head. He gestured for her to have a seat next to Forsythe and he turned the chair to look at them both.

"Now, between the two of you, who wants to explain to me _exactly_ what the _hell_ you two thought you were doing?" Jarvan shook his head and glared at them both in turn.

"It was my fault completely, sir." Delancey said quickly, blushing slightly. "I attacked the corporal without finding out who he was first. I thought he may have been someone working for Jormander when I heard him speaking to Shyvana while she was sleeping. When he tried to explain who he was I assumed he was lying to try and ambush me and was a part of the group of infiltrators that are still at large. It was a misunderstanding that I perpetuated. Apologies, sir."

"I let my temper get the best of me and I decided that I could simply fight back." Forsythe grumbled under his breath. "It's been so long since I've sparred with anyone that I simply got ahead of myself. She may have started it sir, but I perpetuated it. It's my fault as well sir." Delancey cast him a small smile of thanks that he returned.

Jarvan glared at them both for a few moments, hoping that his withering stare might produce some new excuse, but neither the sergeant nor the corporal voiced anything further. "I suppose that's understandable." Jarvan sighed heavily, shaking his head. "But what are you doing here in the first place, Forsythe? I thought you were at the hospital still?"

"I got released this morning." Forsythe said shrugging as he looked down at his clothes. He could see the frown forming on the prince's face and held up a hand to forestall a comment. "Before you ask, I've been assigned to the Office of Personnel and Records as a clerk for a few weeks until they can decide what to do to me. I was given the day off, and a friend at the hospital told me about someone who knows about dragon wounds—well exotic wounds really, but that label came with the indication that it included dragons." He shrugged at Jarvan's curious look. "She's supposedly a specialist that's studied Zeno-biology and other magically inflicted wounds... or something like that. I was supposed to meet her a while ago, but it looks like I missed my chance." He glanced at the clock and glowered.

"Sounds like the same doctor who is supposed to be come down to check out Shyvana's wound." Jarvan said rubbing a hand over his mouth, feeling the thick stubble. "If you'd like to stick around and talk to her afterwards, you're welcome to stay if you don't pick fights with my sergeants anymore. Also, next time, make sure you identify yourself. Oh and try not to knock out the off duty cops, okay? I have enough trouble to deal with as it is."

"Sir." Forsythe muttered sheepishly, nodding. "For the record... they shot first." Jarvan rolled his eyes and nodded.

"Noted, Forsythe." Jarvan grumbled. He turned to Delancey. "Del, from now on, just do me a favor and try not to jump to conclusions next time. I appreciate the gusto, but explaining why one of my bodyguards has just skewered the last remaining member of the company I last led is not something I really want to deal with."

"Yes, sir." Delancey said, nodding her head. "I'll think first, stab later." Forsythe chuckled and she shot him a rueful look, but he grinned and managed to get a blushed smile from Delancey in response. "Corporal Forsythe-..."

"Please, you sound like someone's mother when you say that..." Forsythe said, rolling his eyes. "Just call me Forsythe—or Forse." He shrugged and leaned back, fiddling with a little flap of flesh on his cheek. Delancey shivered as she watched him mess with the wound.

"And what did your mother call you?" Delancey said with a frown, eying the young man as he brushed his pale blonde hair over his eye to hide the hole in his head. He leaned forward with a glum look on his face, fiddling with his cloak, fingering one of the holes that Delancey had put in it. A long moment of silence followed. "Forsythe?" She grabbed his wrist as if he was not paying attention. He jerked his hand away and stood up, moving away from the group briskly, heading deeper into the hall, collecting daggers and starting to clean up some of the mess. Delancey watched him go, and frowned after him, turning back to Jarvan with a slightly distraught look on her face.

"What did I say?" She looked aghast as she looked to Jarvan.

"Forsythe is an orphan." Jarvan said somberly, though there was a bit of pity in his expression. "He was a street urchin who was taken into the penal battalions. He served there with distinction and he was recruited into my company. He was one of the twelve that had survived the Noxian Ambush and then the two years spent wandering the wastes of Valoran under my command. He was one of the two who I thought were going to survive till the very end, but in the end, he was the only one who made it back of the original twelve." Jarvan looked to the ground and grimaced. After a few moments, Jarvan sunk back and shook his head, chuckling as if he threatened to break into tears, a desperate, pained smile spreading on his face, giving him an almost mad look. "I know I suffer from survivors guilt, but I can only imagine how he feels. His commander is a failure and he went from being in one of the most revered units in Demacia to being a staffer who is pushing papers and running errands for officers who are too lazy to do it themselves."

"I don't think you're a failure, sir." Delancey said softly, looking over at the prince.

"Thanks, Del." Jarvan said with a thin smile. "Just give him a bit of time and he'll come around. If you want to try and make it up to him, you can always be his sparring partner." Jarvan wore a faint smile that smacked of an unintentional dirty joke.

A strange looked settled over Delancey's face and then she blushed furiously, glaring at the prince. "I'm not going to sleep with him!" She hissed angrily at the prince.

Jarvan blinked, frowning slightly and shook his head. "No, no, not _sparring_ but actual sparring—like fighting. Like help him get back to fighting shape. Exercising and stuff." Jarvan shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Oh." Delancey squeaked nervously. "I... I think I'm going to step outside real quick and cool off." Del said, tugging on her collar. Jarvan grunted, watching as she struggled not to burst into a run as she moved away, finally just dashing out of the room. He chuckled softly, but his heavy heart and the weight on his mind right now seemed to drag funny scene down in his mind, quickly leaving him feeling empty and raw as she retreated.

"What happened with Delancey?" The sergeant major said as he moved into the room, glancing back over his shoulder. "She looked like she had a fever."

"Something like that." Jarvan muttered, looking at Shyvana. The dragoness was laid out on the bed, her blood now darkening on the ground, a trail leading along the ground to the bed. He sighed heavily, shaking his head to try and dispel some of the dread that still lingered in his chest. "What's up, sergeant major?"

"The specialist who is supposed to examine Shyvana shall be arriving shortly sir." The sergeant major announced.

"Thanks, sergeant major." Jarvan said, nodding. The man looked down at him for a few seconds, but finally the sergeant major tersely nodded and turned and left, moving back towards the doorway to start coordinating some of the clean up and managing the influx of guards that had swept through the building. Jarvan leaned forward heavily from his laid back slouch in the chair, staring at the dragoness. Her face was as pale as ever, barely standing out from the sheets of her bed. Her skin tone lacked the normal sheen, as if the luster had dropped from her skin with the loss of blood. The prince reached out and grabbed her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"It feels like you and I always end up like this, Shyvana." Jarvan spoke softly so no one passing could overhear. He shook his head, a mix of sad amusement and shame in his smile as he sighed heavily, looking to the floor. "First a giant dragon, and now all this." He glowered slightly. "Just what the hell have we managed to get mixed up in now?"

Jarvan stood up, letting his hand gently slip from Shyvana's, moving towards the window, perching his hands on the sill as he started out at the wind swept snow banks that had started to pile up outside. Banks had been pushed up against other academy buildings, and even from his window Jarvan could see the palace distant having snow piled up against it. The wind had covered the walls of even the tallest towers of the palace, as if someone had turned the palace on its side and sprinkled it with powdered sugar. Jarvan sighed heavily, resting his head on his arms, taking a few moments to simply close his eyes and breath deeply. Jarvan turned and rested his back on the wall, dropping away from the window, sliding down the stone towards the floor. He pulled his knees into his chest and rested his arms on his knees, sighing heavily, glancing over at Shyvana as her chest rose and fell serenely.

"Back when it was just you and I, Isaacs, Quinn and Forsythe, I never imagined that our returning to Demacia would bring so much hardship upon us all." Jarvan glowered, letting his head fall back against the stone. "Honestly, I wondered how long I would remain amid the wastes and what it would take to finally break my will or what could finally make me realize that I had to return home. Never did I imagine that it would be a woman like you." Jarvan exhaled heavily, shivering from the cool stone against his back. "But now you and I only seem to attract trouble and pain for ourselves. It's gotten to the point where you seem to be nothing more than a bargaining chip to be used against me, a burden that rides heavily upon my shoulders." Jarvan shook his head and sighed heavily. "But I've only managed to dig my hole deeper and deeper with every passing day. I shouldn't have let you become a burden. Everything I do seems to only drag you and I down further and further, from fighting with my father to the very act of carrying out my duties. And now I have to worry about you and deal with your problems as well as my own just too keep the hope of our future alive?" Jarvan shook his head. "This is no way to live. There are Demacians gunning for me, Kayle from the institute, Swain and that 'L' from Noxus... I just... I don't know how much longer I can keep going, Shyvana."

"There was a time when all of this infighting and backstabbing wouldn't have bothered me so but now..." Jarvan tucked his mouth behind his arms, staring at the stone floor as if it were a prison cell. "Now, I don't know if I can keep this up much longer. Every day is just question upon question, endless doubt and problems getting heaped upon me. What new duty will I have to face, what else does my father have for me to suffer, who else wants a piece of my fame and what little power I have? The saddest part is that the question 'Will I get to see you today' remains day after day. I feel as if I'm going to be ripped apart by both my resolve to you, Shyvana, and my dedication to my nation. It's as if I'm purposely being forced to choose between the two without truly having a choice!" Jarvan snarled, rustling his hair in frustration. "Why does father still want me to compromise my convictions! It's always been like this, always! His way or no way!" Jarvan's hands had convulsed to fists, anger tightening his jaw and clenching his teeth.

"What's with all the extra security?" A voice asked that Jarvan didn't recognize, tearing him from his thoughts. The voice was feminine and cool, though there was a bit of surprise in the tone. Jarvan pushed himself to his feet and straightened his tunic, frowning as he looked to the door.

"You can't go in there ma'am, off limits." A voice that Jarvan figured belonged to one of the guards announced.

"I'm a doctor." The voice announced haughtily, the tone sharpening slightly, as if the owner was offended by the fact that the guard didn't know who she was. "I'm expected, and to my knowledge, the appointment wasn't canceled. If you like, I can call your supervisor and..."

"Ma'am..." The irritation could be heard building in the single word the guard growled, and Jarvan heard the slight clanking that probably came from the guard shaking his head.

"It's alright, corporal." Jarvan looked up and saw that the sergeant major had disappeared, probably looking to stop a problem from occurring before it started. "You can let her in."

"Sir." The guard barked officiously, though Jarvan could hear how the man had spoken through his teeth. "Apologies, ma'am!"

"Hmph." The feminine voice grunted and a clicking of heels resounded through the doorway. Jarvan watched as the blonde strolled in the door, a looked of surprise on her face as she examined the damage that Delancey and Forsythe had managed to impart of the room in their short time alone in the room. She slowly began to pick her way through the room and then she completely stopped when she reached the trail of blood that had marked where Shyvana had been moved. Jarvan could see and hear her swallow audibly, her face paling as her knees started to wobble. She finally started to step over the trail of blood but she froze again when she saw the bed that Shyvana had been worked on before she was moved to her original bed. The bed dressings were soaked in blood, and it looked as if it had soaked all the way through the mattress.

"Wha-what happened here?" She stammered, looking to the prince and then to where Shyvana lay in bed. She shook her head and then looked to Jarvan, her face almost a shade of green. Jarvan blinked a few times and then sat up, realizing who he was looking at. _I remember her from earlier. She was with the medic..._ Despite the slightly queasy expression, Jarvan recognized the golden blonde hair and the royal blue eyes. "It looks like a war zone in here."

"War zones are seldom this clean." Jarvan growled, looking down to the blood. Jarvan pushed himself to his feet and extended a hand as the woman approached. She deftly stepped over the blood, casting a withering glare at the floor. She stopped at the foot of Shyvana's bed and started to extend her hand to accept his own, but it stopped just short and quaked slightly.

"Y-you're... you're the prince!" She stammered nervously, blushing slightly. "I didn't recognize you earlier, sir!" She snapped to attention and bowed deeply several times in quick succession.

"Prince Jarvan, at your service." Jarvan muttered haggardly, rolling his eyes as he turned and stepped back to the bed, collapsing down into his chair and scrubbing his hands over his face. He had the makings of a beard started now, his face scruffy and covered in thick stubble. _No wonder she didn't recognize me. The way I feel is probably pretty damn close to how I look as well. _He looked back up to the blonde, extending his hand courteously despite his disheveled appearance. "And you are?"

"I'm Elvarran." She said, smiling slightly. "Elvarran Brightstorm." She blushed a slightly deeper shade of red as she looked down at the prince. It took several seconds for the name to register with the prince, but as it did, Jarvan's stomach twisted up.

_What!?_ Jarvan clicked his jaw shut, his stomach now threatening to heave. She slid her hand into his and shook it, though the prince's shocked face caused her smile to fade slightly. "How... why..." Jarvan shook his head to stop himself from stammering like an idiot. _He must be trying to set us up and break my determination. I didn't think you would stoops to such lows as taking advantage of Shyvana being injured, father._ Jarvan tightened his fists and let a snarl die in his throat as he stood up straight, fitting the blonde woman before him with a stern expression, struggling to keep his growing agitation from his voice. "What are you doing here Miss Brightstorm?"

"I'm a professor here at the academy." She said, gesturing to the building around them. She smiled ironically. "I suppose it stems from my originally wanting to be a healing mage, but when I started schooling, I enjoyed learning more than I did magic or medicine. I went on to dabble in magic, biology, medicine and a number of other subjects and the academy ended up recruiting me as a professor." She smiled, blushing slightly as she noticed the dumb look on the prince's face.

"I was told that you—well not you, but when they told me about the doctor who would help Shyvana—they said you were a biology professor who was also a doctor?" Jarvan shook his head, confusion clouding his face, the shock from having Elvarran Brightstorm here still marring his mind.

"Well, I suppose that is technically true." She said pondering slightly. "I studied magic and then medicine, as well as a decent amount of biology and xenobiology." She looked down at her clipboard and then back to the prince, shrugging. "I suppose you could call me an expert in the area? Though it's more like I have dabbled in all of the right fields to be uniquely qualified for this sort of thing." She glanced down at Shyvana who was still tucked into the bed and she blushed slightly. "Is this her?"

"This is Shyvana." Jarvan confirmed, looking from the dragoness to the doctor, a frown forming on his face as the discomfort started to grow. "...she's a close friend." Elvarran frowned at him for a moment but watched the dragoness quietly for a few seconds before she cleared her throat and looked back up to the prince.

"I've heard quite a bit about her unique fire magic and her ability to transform." She said as she continued to watch the dragoness evenly, the ruby hair spilling out of the blankets around her face. "I had heard she was some sort of demonic hero who was half monster, half human. She saved a yordle from a Noxian attack and defeated the might of Demacia if rumors are to be true. She's a monster and a terror... or so I've heard."

"It is true she is is only half human, but that does not change her humanity." Jarvan growled, glaring at her as if he dared her to continue speaking.

"Apologies." The woman said, surprised by his anger as she turned towards the dragoness. "Shall we get started then?" Jarvan could she she was uncomfortable but he didn't care at the moment. Jarvan grunted and gestured at Shyvana. Elvarran nodded solemnly after glancing at Jarvan and then frowned slightly. She glanced around herself and then stared at the bed behind her for a few moments, a mix of disgust and shock playing over her face in turns as she looked at the blood soaked bed. She finally sighed softly and then tugged the blankets back, a bit of horror showing on her face as she looked at how deep the blood had soaked. She turned and looked at the almost black blood that had dried on the floor, her face against growing slightly pale and green. "She lost a lot of blood, didn't she?"

"She's been hooked up to the IV there to try and get her back to normal levels." Jarvan said with a terse nod.

"Good thing, too." She said nodding, casting a last glance at the blood. "I know most human's would have died if they had lost a quantity of blood this large." She shook her head and shivered as she glanced at the floor. She finally just set her bag down atop the dried blood, shrugging. She unzipped the bag and pulled out a few instruments, holding them in hand as she laid out a towel on the bed. She set the instruments back in the bag and then laid the towel out, spreading her instruments out across the towel. She pulled out a folder of papers from the front of the bag and popped them open, pulling a pair of glasses from her breast pocket, unfolding them and slipping them on. She stroked her chin thoughtfully as she grabbed a few instruments and stuck them in her pocket.

"I don't know if I'll be able to do anything for her right away, but I should be able to figure out what's wrong." She glanced down at Shyvana's slumbering form and frowned slightly. "How much do you know about the wounds that were inflicted upon her?"

"Not much." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "Just rumor and hearsay." She nodded and tapped her chin thoughtfully as she crossed one arm over her stomach, holding the folder in one hand.

"Supposedly the shrapnel she caught in her side was from a machine designed to extract mana from natural focus points, ley lines of sorts." She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "There was a certain type of crystal deposit located near here that was a strong focal point, and thus the need for the large machine. Something however, disrupted it and set it off, causing it to explode. The surface of the machine was coated in a special type of metal that serves as one base for the formation of a conduit of sorts that accepts the magical energy and allows the energy to be stored. Well a large chunk of shrapnel made of that special metal is what impaled her hip and the area specifically around the wound now appears to have residual effects from the metal. If my guesses are correct, her skin is absorbing the magical energy and it's negating the healing effects of most of the health potions and healing attempts."

"Why though?" Jarvan growled angrily.

"It may just be a residual effect, but it could be a sliver of metal remaining within the wound if it wasn't cleaned properly." She shrugged. "That's what I'm here to find out, hopefully." Jarvan nodded tersely, hiding his frown behind his hands, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Fine." Jarvan said softly, his voice tense and stressed. Elvarran moved forward and tucked the folder under her arm, tossed the cloth on her forehead away, and started to pull the blankets back, but she stopped, staring down at Shyvana. "What's wrong?"

"Uh, well..." Elvarran pulled the blankets all the way down to Shyvana's knees, her face slightly blushed. "With all of the stories I had heard, I didn't expect her to be so... _pretty._" Jarvan's frown darkened as he glared at Elvarran as she blushed, her eyes flickering over Shyvana's body.

"Don't get any ideas." Jarvan growled almost menacingly.

"What, afraid I might steal her away from you?" Elvarran said teasingly, dropping her shoulder in a disarming manner and rotating it about coyly. "Come on prince, its not your decision to choose who she falls for now is it?" She laughed lightly, but her face paled when she saw Jarvan's glare. As if it had been carved form stone, Jarvan's face was a stoney mask, anger barely contained behind his expression as fire danced in his eyes. She laughed nervously as if a joke had gone terribly wrong. "If you'd like, I can take a look at you next." She murmured, taking Jarvan by surprise. "You look like you could use a check up yourself to be honest. Sleep deprivation, heavy stress... I can see it in your eyes." He blinked a few times, his mind completely blanking, but after a few momentshe waved her away. He shook his head and opened his mouth to snap back a response when a groan forestalled his comment.

"Why is it so cold in here?" Shyvana murmured, stirring. She started to roll over, but pain played across her face and she grimaced. "Ow."

"Hi there." Elvarran said, smiling at Shyvana and waving sympathetically. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel like I got kicked in the side a few hundred times." Shyvana muttered, groaning, accepting Elvarran's assistance to sit up. "Who are you?" A moment of fear crossed Shyvana's face. "Where's Jarvan?" The prince grunted and Shyvana turned her head slowly, looking to the prince. She sighed silently, and opened her mouth to speak, but she was cut off.

"My name is Elvarran, I'm a doctor." Elvarran said, dimpling as she smiled. "I'm hear to examine your wound because it's not healing properly, sound okay to you?" Shyvana started to open her mouth, but the anger on Jarvan's face gave her a moment of pause. He sighed and pulled himself to his face, turning away, taking a few steps back before her turned around and met Shyvana's gaze. Jarvan nodded once and then Shyvana looked to Elvarran and nodded meekly.

"Yes." Shyvana said, looking down at her lap. _Something's wrong here. Jarvan is upset. Did I do something wrong?_ She looked up to Jarvan expectantly, but Elvarran smiled warmly at the dragoness.

"Come on now, lets get you taken care of first and then you can talk with him." Elvarran said. Jarvan gave her a brooding glare but her attention seemed dead set on Shyvana now. "He's not going anywhere just yet. Besides, it won't take us too long."

Shyvana looked to the prince, frowning slightly at Jarvan's discomfort but she could see that under the pain and anger he was worried about something. She offered him a smile, but his glare was settled firmly on Elvarran, and Shyvana's smile fell. A pang of grief gripped her heart, but she smiled as he finally looked to her, though his glare didn't soften. Shyvana looked to her lap, gripping her hands tightly together. _She seems important to him._

Jarvan watched as the doctor worked on Shyvana, her hands often lingering just above Shyvana's pale skin or playing gently around her curves as the doctor examined her. _You may not be touching her, but I can see your desire to. Your dedication to your craft is impressive. _Elvarran took blood samples from various places, examined the wound carefully, and finally ended up re-bandaging it after letting it breath for a few minutes. Shyvana and Elvarran spoke in a soft tone that Jarvan couldn't hear. _What are they saying?_ Jarvan shook his head. _I really don't think I want to know._ Smiles rode on their faces as the laughed and joked, again the doctor's attention a bit too enraptured by Shyvana as she worked. She sat back and they spoke at length, Shyvana ending up holding up a hand and conjuring a mote of orange flame, letting it dance around her fingers as if it were a small creature. _That surely can't be relevant to the check up, can it? It's almost as if they're flirting! And right in front of me!_ Elvarran blushed as the fire sprite danced over her hand, her eyes lingering on Shyvana. Jarvan forced himself to turn away, and he began pacing, a darkened frown on his face as he watched them interact for a few moments and then he turned away. He only watched another few moments of stiflingly happy conversation before he had to turn away again.

They were now lost in conversation, Shyvana wearing a smile happier than Jarvan had seen in a while. Jarvan felt his shoulders tense up as they laughed innocently, Shyvana smiling even broader than before, her cheeks rosy as Elvarran spoke. _I shouldn't be angered by this, they're simply talking!_ Jarvan turned away, clenching his fists. He glared at the ground and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he tried to calm himself. He paced back towards the bed and froze, watching as Shyvana laughed and blushed. _I'm jealous!_ Jarvan shook his head and stepped up to the end of the bed and cleared his throat, catching them both by surprise.

"Oh, apologies." Elvarran said, resting a hand on Shyvana's knee, patting it gently as she stood up and started messing with something in her bag. Jarvan glared at her but Shyvana had not opposed it and Elvarran did not seem bother by the prince's angry glare. "We were speaking about draconian history and the like. Excuse me."

"How is Shyvana?" Jarvan asked gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest to hide his fists and the anger that tightened his jaw.

"The wound was bad, but it will heal in time. Judging from other small wounds that have already healed, it is surprising to me that the healing hasn't progressed further. She has a curiously accelerated healing rate, but again the wound seems to be causing some sort of interference. I used a medical scanning charm to check the wound for anything that may have been missed by the surgeons, but I found nothing but the most miniscule traces of the element. It should pass through her system in a few days, and given enough time to heal, the wound should be healed within the week if my estimates about her regeneration is correct." Elvarran pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose slightly, casting a glance along Shyvana's hip. "She should be eating and drinking plenty to help pass the elemental residue from her system. Otherwise she seems to be perfectly healthy. Though..."

"Though?" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow, his brow creasing slightly. He tensed up, anger coursing through his veins at the thought that something else could be wrong.

"There were also some scars I couldn't identify." Elvarran shrugged slightly as she gently ran her fingernails along the left most scar on Shyvana's hip. A smile came to her face as her pink fingernails played over the faint pink scars, though they shone fairly clearly against the dragoness's pale skin. "They were completely healed though, excellently sutured, and they appeared to have healed quickly at that." The smile softened slightly as Elvarran looked to the dragoness, Shyvana blushing slightly. "Whoever gave you those sutures knew what they were doing, and the precision and effort spoke of great care for you. Your father perhaps?"

"You can tell all that from the scars?" Shyvana said nervously, blinking a few times. Elvarran nodded, still smiling as she cast another gaze along the dragoness's pale skin. "Those wounds came from after my father died." Shyvana blushed slightly and shook her head, her eyes glancing to Jarvan for a brief moment, though Elvarran's exacting glare caught the motion.

"You mean... I was unaware you had any medical training, your highness." Elvarran said, the smile sliding to an impressed smirk.

"It was something I picked up because it was needed." Jarvan growled, still wearing a frown, though there was just a touch of color in his cheeks. "Doc Fenrush used to teach me little tricks back when he worked on men in the field." Jarvan's frown darkened and grew weary. All of the lines in his face deepened as he sighed, shaking his head. The dark bags under his eyes and the thick stubble on his chin only made the lines looked darker and it left him looking much older and wearier than Shyvana had ever seen before. "I had a lot of opportunities to practice and hone my basic skill in two years."

"Jarvan..." Shyvana said softly, looking at the grief that he now struggled to bottle up. Elvarran frowned slightly though, watching Shyvana and the prince curiously. She smiled, hoping to cheer things up.

"I trained with Doctor Fenrush when he taught at the academy." Elvarran said softly as she ran her fingers overs Shyvana's skin, pressing gently around the wound, to ensure there was no inflammation forming. "Let me know if anything hurts." Shyvana nodded nervously, but didn't say anything, wincing only once when Elvarran's fingers wandered too close to the wound. The doctor sighed and pushed herself back up to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest, looking to the prince. "It's healing nicey. What ever happened to him? I haven't heard anything from Carlyle Fenrush in years. How is he?" She smiled expectantly, hoping the light conversation would ease the mood, but the smile quickly dropped away when she saw Jarvan's reaction.

A mask of grief settled over Jarvan face as she glared at the ground, holding his fists stiffly at his side. "He was one of many to die at the hands of Swain when I lead my company into a trap. They were slaughtered."

"That's... that's horrifying." Elvarran said, clasping her hands over her mouth. She sunk down and sat on the edge of the bed she had set her bag on. "I never realized that he was dead."

"I'd apologize for being the bearer of bad news, but I've had to shoulder the pain and responsibility of it for two and a half years. Blame me if you want." Jarvan cast her a withing frown, a sullen look on his face, his voice full of anger and indignation. "Many already hate me for how I led their families to ruin. Having you hate me would only make things that much easier."

"Why would I hate you?" Elvarran said, frowning, pulling her glasses off as she crossed her arms over her chest. "You look tired and angry, though what for, I don't really know. If you have issues of your own though, you need not take it out on me."

"Why are you defending yourself if you haven't done anything!" Jarvan snapped angrily, pointing at her accusingly. "I may be tired, but I am not blind! I can see what you're doing here! I saw what you did earlier! "

"What?" Elvarran shook her head, looking offended. A moment of revelation opened her eyes wider and then she snorted and laughed. "You saw me teasing Jesarah earlier, right, I had forgotten about that. So what? You think I'm trying to encroach on you and your relationship? Don't think me so isolated that I haven't heard the stories."

"Then what are you doing here?" Jarvan snapped back, his temper obviously showing as he gained no headway. "Did my father put you up to this? Is he the one who set this all up?" Jarvan snarled and spun away. "Or was it Jormander? Maybe he thought it good to antagonize me further." Jarvan shook his head, scuffling his hair up, giving himself a wild look, his brow furrowed in frustration.

"What does your father have to do with any of this, Jarvan?" Shyvana said, her brow creasing for a moment. "And who is Jormander?"

Jarvan looked to Shyvana for a brief moment, anger flashing through his eyes so violently that Shyvana was taken aback. She sucked in a breath until he snarled in disgust and turned away, pacing for a moment before he turned and glared at Elvarran, stepping close so as Shyvana couldn't hear. "You may think her pretty, but she is mine, you hear me? If you so much as lay a hand on her I won't hesitate to snap your fingers." Elvarran shrunk back in horror, anger now starting to show in her expression.

"You know, when I originally heard I was to be engaged to you, I was both surprised and unsure how to react." Elvarran said softly, shaking her head before she looked up and glared at him angrily. "I had never met you and I had only heard tales of what you were like. But they were good stories about how you cared for your men and you were dedicated to them and their well being, often fighting with your commanding officers for better equipment and duties. I respected you before I even met you, but now I can see that you're just a narcissistic, conceited little boy who let his daddy do everything for him."

"You think this is because I let my father do all of my work for me?" Jarvan said incredulously, anger rippling through his voice as his brow furrowed and he glared angrily at her. "My father never let me do anything at all! Hell, the reason I walked into that fucking trap was because I was trying to impress him so he'd actually let me command my own unit instead of the lieutenant who was hand picked by him to run things behind my back! Everything may have been done for me, but it was not by my choice or request! Just like this engagement! I was blind sided with it less than a month ago! I didn't even know your name twenty-four hours ago!"

A moment of shock crossed Elvarran's face, eclipsing her anger for a moment. "But... how... I was told... month and months ago about this."

"She's your... you're engaged?" Shyvana said, shock clear on her face as she looked from Elvarran to Jarvan as if she had just been stabbed. Jarvan looked to her, though where she expected grief and regret from Jarvan she only saw anger and outrage.

"Now you understand how I feel!" Jarvan snarled, his fists convulsing at his sides as he turned away and glared at the ground. "I'm not even a son to him! I'm a political tool, a bargaining chip! He doesn't know what it's like at all." Jarvan shook his head. "Every day I have to face the crushing fears that I let everyone who trusted me down when I step into the office. I have to look into those same piercing green eyes and face the fact that almost everyone is now dead. And for what? Getting beaten around and bossed about doing my father's bidding while dealing with power hungry mad men and god knows how many people that want to kill me? It's about all I can deal with right now. Thanks but no thanks."

"If it makes any difference to you, I wasn't exactly thrilled at the thought either." Elvarran said angrily. "I don't want to marry a man, especially one as condescending and possessive as the likes of you!"

"Yeah, I could tell by the way you'd much rather hang over that medic I saw you with earlier." Jarvan quipped snidely. He turned to face her, anger still clear on his face. He took a step forward and came closer to Elvarran, dropping his voice to a growling whisper again. "And if I were a bit crazy, I would have pointed out that you laying your hands on Shyvana was not something I appreciated."

"I'm a doctor!" Elvarran exclaimed, surprised by the prince's blind anger. "I'm merely doing my job!"

"Are you though?" Jarvan hissed, narrowing his eyes. "I bet that what it always is, isn't it? Just doing your job. Then you-..."

Elvarran raised her hand back and caught Jarvan full on the cheek with an open handed slap, twisting his head about.

"Jarvan!" Shyvana shouted, surprised, anger in her voice now.

"Your highness!" Delancey and the sergeant major threatened to surge forward to protect him, but he raised a hand and glared at them, both of them taking a step back, their shoulders drawn together. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"You're a bastard!" Elvarran choked, tears starting to well in her eyes. "How dare you make an accusation like that..."

"Accusation?" Jarvan hissed, pointing at her. "Call it an observation. Hell, call it whatever you want, it still stands. I appreciate your coming but you can tell my father it's not going to work." Jarvan growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What?" Elvarran said, confusion crossing her face, ebbing the pain and anger in her expression.

"My father put you up to this, didn't he?" Jarvan said accusingly. "Why else would you be here?"

"Because I'm a doctor!" Elvarran exclaimed. Silence followed as Jarvan glared at her, searching for a retort.

"Jarvan, what does your father have to do with any of this?" Shyvana said, a mix of anger and confusion crossing her face. She looked annoyed now at being left out of the conversation while being talked about and gestured to while she sat their laying in bed.

"Perhaps I should leave..." Elvarran said softly, glancing between Shyvana and Jarvan. They both glared at her but neither said anything.

Forsythe stepped up from where he, Delancey and the sergeant major had been watching just as Jarvan opened his mouth to hurl another snide comment. "If you have a few minutes, I'll walk you back to your office. I had a few questions."

"Sure." Elvarran said tersely, frowning as she glanced back at the prince and Shyvana. Forsythe cast a frown at the prince but ushered her from the room as soon as she had grabbed her bag.

"What's gotten into you Jarvan?" Shyvana said, a frown sliding onto her face as Elvarran left. "This isn't like you."

Jarvan ran a hand through his hair, glaring down at Shyvana as he stood up, a frown riding heavily on his face. "Don't you get it?" Jarvan snapped angrily. "My father is trying to play me—us like marionettes! He's trying to use her and break us and frankly I'm fed up with all of his bullshit!"

"Sir, perhaps it would be better to address this after you've had some rest." The sergeant major said evenly, trying to placate the prince and stall the brewing storm.

"Oh, I'm hardly tired now!" Jarvan shot back venomously. "After spending all night working so I could get away from that monster and come see Shyvana after she was wounded, it hardly seems the right time to rest! Oh but it didn't stop there. First he needed to lecture me about how Shyvana is a hero and how he's looking to expand _my_ influence because 'someday this will be you kingdom and I need to start acting as such'!" Jarvan snarled in a surly and sarcastic tone. "We're nothing but pawns to him and I know it! Then he goes and tell me I'm getting married and I don't have a choice in the matter! Fucking great! He then has the audacity to propose a deal that if you can beat Xin Zhao, you get to finally get your position, as if suddenly all the problems are going to dissappear." Jarvan snarled, his fists quivering as he pointed as Shyvana. "He thinks you're weak. He thinks I'm a fool! That stupid bastard can go fuck himself as far as I care!"

"Jarvan..." Shyvana said, frowning as she looked up at the prince ruefully. "He's your father though..."

"So what?" Jarvan snapped back as he paced along the bottom of the bed. "He's a scheming, evil bastard blind to his own family! Hell, he probably set this entire thing up just to rip us apart!" Jarvan spun and faced Shyvana, pointing at the door after the blonde who had left not long ago. "You realize that the good doctor is my _fiance_, right? _FIANCE_! He set that up! there is no way in hell that was just a coincidence."

"So what, it's not like you're going to marry her." Shyvana said crossly.

"I might not have a choice!" Jarvan snarled. "What am I going to do, run away again? Last time I jumped blindly like that because of my father, I ended up getting an entire company of men and women, all of my friends, killed in the process!" Jarvan snarled. "I'm tired of making stupid decisions and then having to play puppet to that bastard while he treats me like a child and tries to pick up the pieces! Nothing ever good comes from it."

"So what am I then?" Shyvana said, tears now starting to well in her eyes. "Just another rash decision that you regret?" She shook her head to try and cast of the tears but they ran down her cheeks, streaking her face. "Or maybe I'm just a trophy! I heard what you said earlier and I'm not deaf either! I hear the rumors and see the faces people make at me. I don't belong here. I'm a beast and even now I can see that you think it as well! Maybe if you didn't have a 'woman like me' everything would be fine!" Jarvan watched her for a few moments, shaking his head finally and running a hand through his hair as he growled, unable to respond directly to her accusations. "You can't even deny it now! So what is it? Am I just a bargaining chip that drags you down? What hope is there for us if you've given up!" Jarvan's face ran through a myriad of emotions as he tried to find something to respond with, but he ended up turning away, anger on his face.

"My father did all of this!" He snarled. "If only he had been a father, instead of the coldhearted bastard, none of this would have happened!"

"Stop hiding behind that excuse!" Shyvana demanded, though she hunched over, clutching at her stomach as pain played over her face.

"You can't blame all of that on your father, sir." The sergeant major growled unappreciatively from across the room. "You must have known that some of this would have happened."

"I can blame him as much as I want!" Jarvan snapped back, glaring at the sergeant major. "I've had it up to about here with all of his bullshit and games, and I'm getting to the point where I'm starting to miss the freedom of not having to live under his overbearing rule." Jarvan snarled, shaking his fists as he pounded the end of the empty bed, the bed frame ringing as he growled and shook it in frustration.

"He's still your father." Shyvana said grasping at the blanket, forming fists and she clutched the comforter. "At least you still have a father." Shyvana ducked her head, hiding behind the ruby red hair that spilled around her face.

"Why don't you just be the royal one then!" Jarvan snapped at Shyvana, shaking his head. "If you think it's so easy having to deal with everything he is throwing at me, trying to break me, then maybe you can try dealing with it!"

"What do you think I've been doing!?" Shyvana shouted back, anger now contorting her face. "Day in and day out I suffer the humiliation of getting called 'half-beast', 'the prince's bitch', 'slut' and everything else you could imagine! Everyone hates me and views me like an abomination! They're scared and the more and more I have to deal with the more I want to show them that they should be!"

"Maybe then people would stop threatening me with trying to hurt you." Jarvan snapped back, his voice surly and sarcastic. "I wouldn't have to put up with half of this shit."

"Is that what I've become?" Shyvana said, her voice quiet, but anger boiled directly below the surface. "Just a burden?" Shyvana shook her head, hiding her eyes behind her hair, looking at her lap as she clutched the blanket with white-knuckled fists. "Fine, maybe I'll just go and leave! Then you won't have to suffer, I won't have to suffer and we can stop forcing ourselves to try and live this damned fantasy!"

"A fantasy?" Jarvan snarled back, blinded by anger, though he could feel the pain starting to build something queasy in his stomach. He tossed his arms up in exasperation "Sure, go ahead and leave! It'll take a load off my back and I'll just marry the woman I met today for the first time that my father set me up with! That will make me _SO_ happy!" Jarvan's voice was harsh and sarcastic, but when he looked to Shyvana, he could see that the remark had cut much deeper than he had meant it to.

"Fine." Shyvana snapped, tears pouring down her face as she glared at the prince. "Just leave me like my father did! Humanity hates me, dragon kind hates me, and now even you hate me!"

"Jarvan!" Delancey snapped at the prince as Shyvana's tears began to splash over the blanket. "You went too far!"

"Too far?!" Jarvan said incredulously, glaring at the sergeant as she looked at him fiercely. "You practically destroyed this entire room because you were trying to kill my only remaining friend! Don't tell me about going too far!"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Delancey hissed, anger rippling through her form.

"Go ahead, knock yourself out. It isn't stopping anyone else at this point." Jarvan shouted in exasperation, throwing his arms up into the air.

"Frankly sir... FUCK YOU!" Delancey snarled back, stamping an armored boot on the ground. "If you're going to bitch at me about trying to protect your girlfriend from getting raped or killed then maybe you could do something about it instead of getting angry at everything." A moment of pity crossed her face and she had to shake her head. "I didn't sign up to be a verbal punching bag when I did my duty given what limited information I had, and when Shyvana agreed to join you in Demacia I highly doubt she did either. If you don't want me to do my job, fine. I'll go back to the office and Lee can take my place and be your whipping boy." Delancey spun and started towards the door, but the sergeant major grabbed her arm. She tried to tug it away, but the sergeant major's grip was like a vice on her arm and his glare was molten.

"You're out of line, Delancey." He growled menacingly, "Regardless of what the prince said, you need to sit the fuck down before you say something else that you're going to regret."

"What, and watch him continue this tirade?" She cast a nasty look at Jarvan. "If he wants to tear down his entire world in a temper tantrum like some child, he can do the decent thing ny not bothering to drag me down with him."

"Shut up, Sergeant Delancey, and sit down. _NOW."_ The sergeant major said, raising his voice. The sergeant looked angry but she sat back down on the spare bed, still casting nasty looks in Jarvan's direction. "And you." He turned on the prince and glared at him. "You're out of line as well, _SIR. _I don't care how stressful your fucking life is, I don't care how difficult you think you have it, but the second you start taking it out on others, _YOU_ have fucked up as an officer. We all understand and don't give a flying fuck about what happened in the past or we wouldn't be here. So do yourself a goddamned favor and shut your fucking mouth."

"Oh what and now you're teaming up with them?" Jarvan snarled venomously. "Great, now everyone wants to rip into me like my fucking life is their business."

"I was a part of your life!" Shyvana shouted desperately, looking to Jarvan as tears now spilled down her face like a waterfall. "But apparently I'm just too much of a burden to be your partner!" Silence filled the room. "I heard what you said earlier. If I was such a burden you could have just said something... anything... but now... now you just seem to hate all of us! Why Jarvan? Why are you so angry at us and your father? What did we do!?"

Jarvan glared at Shyvana for a moment, but he could feel the condescending glare of Delancey and the sergeant major on him now. _Nothing I can say or do will repair the damage I've already done. _Jarvan glared at the ground, clenching his fists, fear and pain swirling in his stomach. _The last time I felt fear like this was the moment Swain held me for execution. I'm trapped like the rat I've become... I... I fucked up! _Jarvan shook his head and waved his arms as if he was still enraged, hiding his fear. "I've had enough of this!" Jarvan snarled, turning on his heel. He stormed out of the room, brushing past Delancey's scathing glare and the disapproving looks of the sergeant major, disappearing out of the door and into the hallway beyond.

"Wait..." Shyvana said weakly, more tears welling in her eyes as she tried to struggled up, her face contorting in pain. "Jarvan... Jarvan!" Silence resounded from the hallway. She looked to Delancey with tears still running down her face and then to the sergeant major, but his face was impassable.

Delancey shook her head and the rested her face in the palm of her hand, sighing heavily. "What... what just happened?" Delancey muttered, glancing from Shyvana to the door Jarvan had disappeared through.

"I wish I knew." Shyvana said somberly, now staring at her lap, tears streaming down her face. "I didn't really mean any of it... I'm just hungry and in pain. I can't stand to see him hate his father so after losing my own but I didn't mean to anger him so!" She looked up at Delancey and the sergeant major as if she was looking for penance to stop the ache of her heart as tears now ran down her cheeks. "I... I just... I don't even know... how did this happen? What went wrong?"

Delancey shrugged, toeing a corner of the curtain nervously. The sergeant major bent over and picked up a paper bag that had fallen to the floor at some point. He looked at it for a few moments and then ran a hand over the side of his silver, short shorn hair. He sighed softly and shook his head.

"The prince got these for you this morning." He groaned as if he had expected something like this. "Give him time. I... I don't think he meant it." He glanced at the bag again and then tossed the bag to Shyvana and shook his head, looking to Delancey. "I'm going after the prince. You stay with her for now?" Delancey nodded somberly, though she stared at her lap, hunched over. The sergeant major took a last look at Shyvana and then turned, taking off to find the prince.

Shyvana looked at the slightly squished paper wrapped package, turning it over in her lap. She untied the twine that bound it closed and opened the paper package and let out a pained gasp as if she had just be run through with a sword. She gasped for breath, the torrent of tears now renwed as she struggled to hold the sobs back.

Shyvana made a pitiful sound that was somewhere between a sob and a croak as tears flowed freely down her face, sobs wracking her body.

Shyvana pulled a chocolate chip cookie that had broken in half from the bag.

_Oh Jarvan... what have I done..._


	29. Chapter 28: Perspective

"You certainly picked a nice night to take a stroll, Jarvan." Quinn mumbled to herself as she carefully dropped from a warehouse roof to avoid a patrolling guardsman, tugging her hood lower and tightening the scarf around her face. She could hear him muttering and bitching about the cold from further away than she could see him in the thick snowstorm. Quinn had already navigated her way along the guard's existing pathway, and unless he was really looking hard, he wouldn't notice that the latest pair of tracks were much smaller than his normal tread and were headed in the opposite direction he was patrolling in. She pressed her back to the granite wall as the mumbling and complaints grew louder. She dared not move, and she remained frozen on the top of the roof that was connected to the floor below.

"God damned, fucking weather." The man's voice carried over the wind. "If this bloody Nor'easter hadn't gone and fucking blown outta the Freljord, I coulda had a nice easy night. Now I'm colder than a witch's tit and later on I gotta go _home_ to one! Fuck this shit." The voice faded out again and Quinn breathed a sigh of relief, giggling to herself about the guard's colorful words. Even over the wind she could hear his muttering as he started around the building again on his patrol.

"At least I like the cold." Quinn mused to herself as she moved towards the edge of the rooftop and dropped to the street, looking around for the shape of the prince as he wandered seemingly aimlessly about the city. She managed to pick out the shape of the prince in his heavy jacket and then watched the shape for a few moments. It lurched forward in the snow, choosing top brute force the snow aside, rather than the odd bowlegged hops most people tended to prefer. _Yep, that's him._ He was moving slowly, even for a man in a snowstorm. _I'll keep my distance for now, but I don't know if I can hit anything in this weather. _She put her hand on her crossbow under her cloak, just to make sure it was still there.

Quinn found herself was almost hoping that Valor would drop out of the storm and land on her shoulder, but she also didn't want to hear the bird's condescending remarks right now. It had been hard not to overhear Shyvana and Jarvan's fight from where she had concealed herself in the corner of the room, using an old access hatchway in the school building's clock tower to get out of the storm for a while. She had crept around the building for a time; she blended in pretty well with the few remaining students in the halls, even with Valor on her shoulder. She had passed several students who carried veterinary books, so Quinn had just let herself stroll through the building as if she owned the place. She had sent Valor out that morning after Jarvan when the storm had been a bit lighter, and taken the time to wander around the Medical School a bit more, exploring while she had the chance. She had always wanted to go to medical school, but she had been surprised at how stuffy the walls and rooms were compared to the great outdoors.

Despite his absense, Quinn was glad she was along at the time so she could avoid all of Valor's snippy remarks, but she also didn't want the eagle to know just how happy she was when she was out with him. She grinned to herself. _If that bird knew it, I think his head might just inflate till he could simply float away. _She giggled softly at the image in her head. Quinn sighed, turning back towards the prince as he trudged along in the knee deep snow. She nodded to herself once before setting off after him, shaking her head.

"He would have to pick the roughest neighborhood of all to wander into and everything." Quinn grinned. "At least Valor isn't here to pester me about making a pass at Jarvan while he's alone." She rolled her eyes as she trudged through the snow.

* * *

Jarvan trudged slowly through the snow, not looking where he was going, simply letting his legs carry him wherever they fancied. Jarvan watched silently as the snow came down around him, pooling at his feet, growing deeper with every passing minute. He paused and looked around, his eyes dancing around the strangely idyllic world, large structures dressed in quartz and marble rising up around him like the mountain ranges of the Freljord wastes. Ice hung from all of the different structures and the graceful decorations looked more haunting than beautiful with icy fangs hanging from every ledge and wind-swept snowy blankets dressing the left side of everything.

"Where did I end up?" Jarvan mouthed, turning his jacket lapel up against the wind and chill, glancing around, frowning as he tried to place himself within the city. His frown darkened a bit as he looked around for a street sign, but everything but the few other plodding shadows also trudging in the snow gave no distinctive signs that they belonged to any one district of the city.

A pair of rather hulking snow shrouded figures trudged to a stop not too far distant and Jarvan hunched over, pushing through the snow deeper into the unidentifiable area, whatever carried him further away from the medical school and the shame that hung above his neck like a guillotine poised to cleave his head from his shoulders.

_I am such a moron! A massive fucking idiot! _Jarvan told himself for the hundredth time as he trudged through the snow. _Why must I always jump to conclusions so rashly? Of course Elvarran knew nothing about this, why would she? _Jarvan ran a hand over his face and grimaced, sighing heavily as he shivered against a blast of icy wind. _That doesn't change the responsibility though, father. I knew you to be calculating and manipulative, but this takes it to whole new levels. This is a new low even for you. _

Jarvan was so lost in his thoughts, staring at the snowy white ground in front of him that he didn't realize he was walking directly towards another snow-cloaked figure. Jarvan bumped into him, starting and bouncing back, his arms flailing as he struggled to stay upright as he boots caught in the knee deep snow drifts.

"Watch wher' yah's goin!" The man snarled angrily, his dark skin and his low drawn hood hiding his eyes even in the blinding white snowstorm. Jarvan stepped back and his eyes quickly looked over the man, a frown on his face as he took in the slick black cloak that hung, bulging with a heavy jacket underneath, drawn tight around his shoulders against the cold wind. The slick looking cloak was dotted with snow, but much of the icy precipitation slid over him like he wasn't even there.

"Pardon me." Jarvan mumbled, shaking his head to try and quell the surprise he felt. The man bent forward slightly, getting a better look at the prince and then his mouth hung open for a few moments.

"Oi, wait a minut..." The man said softly, a frown befalling what Jarvan could see of his hood shrouded face. "You's tha prince, ain't ya?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Jarvan said awkwardly, trying to slouch and duck his chin inside the collar of his jacket to hide his face, but the man already had him in his sights. The man leaned down again as a thin smile spread over his face and he clapped Jarvan on the shoulder.

"You's tha prince!" He said jovially, though his voice was cold as if he wasn't so much happy as surprised. "I knew I recognized yah! What chu doin' down 'ere in the docks for, eh?" He entrapped Jarvan under a heavy arm, though part of it was his weight, he had to stand on the tip of his toes to get his arm up high enouhg. He grasped Jarvan's hand in his own, though it felt frail to the touch, slightly unexpected for a dock worker or sailor.

Jarvan stood up straighter and looked around again, realizing what he had been looking at. The towers and massive buildings to his right weren't actual buildings but ships trapped in the ice that barricaded the inner harbor. The eerie creak and the gentle rocking of the ships cut through the wind now that he paid attention to them, the shapes beginning to take form amid the snow and ice. What he had thought was decorative stone work turned out to be mast and rigging for large ships, the ropes and wooden beams thoroughly iced over and coated in a thick blanket of snow. The large archways he had passed through weren't actual archways, but the support structures for the large rail mounted derricks and cranes that loaded and unloaded the smaller ships that did not carry their own lift equipment. He looked skywards and could barely pick the long booms out from the sky, only a pale shadow against a paler sky. The men who wandered the streets must have been guards and dockworkers, moving from inns and taverns to new watering holes for entertainment of company amid the darker, seedier places that the docks offered as a refuge to those who came in on ships and were not allowed deeper into the city.

"Just taking a calming walk." Jarvan lied, refusing to admit how he was running from his responsibilities and his screw ups. "I needed to get away from all of it for a little while."

"Unner'stanble." The man murmured, nodding his head sagely, though Jarvan doubted the thickly accented man understood anything about the royal prince at all. "Sometimes tha' werld is jus a bit too big, ya know? It helps to get away now and then."

_Okay, so maybe he does know._ Jarvan shook his head and tried to slide his hand from the man's grip, but despite the frail feeling fingers, he had a powerful hold on Jarvan's hand. "It does. Now if you don't mind, I must be getting back." _Or at least away from you._

"Perhaps you'd let dis ole sailor shows ya a bit'o hospitality in return fa ya nation's graciously letting me sails into port?" The man wrapped an arm tighter around the prince's shoulders and started to steer him towards a street corner where the noisy clink of glasses and the rabble of heated conversation echoed from within a tavern, the windows glowing an inviting golden color against even the harshest of winter storms. "I'd hate ta' miss mah chance to show me 'preciation."

"You're too kind." Jarvan said, trying to duck away, but the man was already steering him towards the tavern doorway. "But really, I must be-..."

"Nonsense!" The man said, his smile showing beneath his hood again as he started to push the prince along. "Ain't nothing gun do ya beh'er in this weather than ah hearty glass of ale and something hot to drink! Come on now, yous look troubled. Pah'haps I can lend me ear and ease yer troubled mind."

"I don't know you from the snow underfoot._" _Jarvan growled softly under his breath, something dangerous flashing through his eyes as the man guided him up to the bar. _But what harm could come from letting a senile old sailor who won't be in port but for a few days hear me out? Maybe he'll have some advice._

"A drink does sound nice." Jarvan muttered. He sighed heavily and shook his head. _I'm probably going to pay hell for this but fuck it. I needed to cool my head anyways._ "Just don't use my name. No sense in spreading it about right now when I seek to escape the prying eyes of others."

"Aye." The man said with a soft chuckle. "I can do tha'."

The bar was crowded, but the old sailor managed to find a table in the back that was secluded enough that there were no prying eyes that would be gazing upon the prince while he shared a drink with the man. An old barmaid approached, glancing at the prince, his tired, haggard look doing well enough to hide his identity while she waved a hand in recognition to the sailor. He tugged the edge of his hood in a mock tip of the hat, a wry grin showing just under his hood in the dim golden light of the tavern.

"The regular, I presume?" She said, tucking her tray under one arm and posting her fist upon her hip as she watched the sailor. He nodded and then turned to the prince. "And for you, young'n?"

"Coffee." Jarvan said gruffly, tugging ice from his mane of twisted black hair.

"Put a few shots of whiskey in it, on me." The sailor grunted, patting the prince on the shoulder.

"What's the celebration?" The barmaid said, raising an eyebrow as a grin tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"Cold weather and future prospects." The man announced, chuckling aloud and clapping Jarvan on the shoulder.

"Sounds plenty a reason to me." The waitress said, wearing an easy smile as she turned away, shrugging. "Be right back with your drinks, boys."

"So, old man, what should I call you?" Jarvan said, leaning heavily on the table.

"You can call me wha erryone else does: Deadeye." The sailor said, raising his hands to his hood. Jarvan frowned and started to open his mouth to ask why, but the man pulled his hood back to reveal a large, dark eye patch that wrapped around his head and covered his right eye. A gruesome spider's web of scars escaped around the edges, and Jarvan realized where the name came from. "A bit dauntin', I know, but sailors is rough folk." He chuckled. "Stupid names and bad humor usually jus' follows."

Jarvan snorted, nodding solemnly and looked around the tavern to avoid staring at the man's eye patch. There was a motley collection of sailors, loose women, dock workers and some of the roughest looking guards Jarvan had ever seen in Demacia hanging around the bar. Many were crowded around tables and talked in hushed tones, little cliques of men in uniforms interspersed with the grungy cloaks of poor laborers and salty dogs that looked and smelled as if they hadn't bathed in weeks. The bar itself was much more lively as drinks were passed around and heavy drinkers sloshed their flagons of ale about jovially in mock salutes, toasts to this, that, and the other getting cried out every few minutes. Women buzzed about like flies, jumping from man to man to offer comfort for the evening or even a few hours, if that. While strictly outlawed in the city-state of Demacia, Jarvan watched as the guards paid no heed to the men who wandered away with a woman on their arm, as long as no exchange of money got passed in the open. Jarvan watched a few times as women accepted coins under the edge of the bar or under tables as he scanned the bar, but the officers and guards kept to their drinks instead of bothering what they pretended not to see. They were too absorbed in conversations in hushed tone to notice what was obvious even to the dullest of eyes.

The door opened and a young woman walked in, shaking snow from her cloak and stamping ice from her boots. Jarvan watched her for a few minutes as she moved through the bar. He shook his head and looked for the young woman again, but frowned. _If there had been an eagle on her arm, I would have sworn that had been Quinn. _He shook his head and sighed heavily, continuing to look around the bar. Jarvan had almost finished his scan of people when he laid eyes on a man sitting in the opposite corner of the back of the bar, puffing on a long pipe, a hood pulled low over his eyes as he watched the prince evenly. Jarvan couldn't see his eyes in the shroud of darkness that veiled his face, but as he looked at the hooded man, he felt his skin crawl. The man puffed the pipe once and it cast a dim orange glow over his face, revealing piercing emerald green eyes. A red beard dressed his chin and upper lip, trimmed back along the sides. He did not flinch as the prince watched him for a few moments.

"Oi, Runeterra ta Jar-vahn." Deadeye murmured, waving a hand in front of the prince's face. Jarvan blinked a few times, looking down in front of him, a steaming mug that was black as tar and smelled of whiskey, coffee and sugar. He glance back over his shoulder to look for the barmaid, not having realized she had come and went, but she was nowhere to be seen. "See something you like? Cos' yous is floatin on me, sonny." The man said, dropping a shot glass of dark amber liquid into his tankard and swirling it around a few times before tossing it back and taking a deep pull on the drink, sighing satisfactorily. "Might wanna rein yer mind back to tha ground or it migh' jus float off. Or if ya please, ya can always try and get some company if that be what ya desire. I could imagin da tha responsibility yous holds is qui' lonesome ah times."

"No, no... Sorry." Jarvan said, shaking his head and then running a hand over his face. _I don't want company from anyone but Shyvana. _He leaned heavily on the table and sighed, scooping up the mug and dragging it closer to himself. _I suppose that's why it feels so lonely right now. _He picked the large mug up, holding the barrel and letting the strong vapors waft over his face as he breathed in deeply. "That smells amazing."

"It's considah'd a rare delicacy in moes' plases, but 'ere in Demacia, you have lots o' coffee." The sailor shrugged, grinning thinly.

"I do love good coffee." Jarvan said softly, taking a sip. The hot liquid burned its way down his throat, the heat of the coffee and the fiery vapors of the whiskey opening all of his sinuses and leaving the prince feeling as if he had just taken a hot bath. He sunk slightly in his seat, sitting back and grinning to himself. "Damn that's good coffee."

"When you spen' all ya time down amid tha ships and tha cargo thaht comes an goes, you learn 'ow to pick owt good wares for cheap." The sailor grinned, his one dark ever glittering coldly. "Ovaflow and eggcess, ya know? The taverns o' Demacia do ave some of da bess stuff I evah did taste."

Jarvan nodded knowingly, thinking back to one of the meetings he had sat in on in the past few weeks. One of the merchant guild representatives had voiced concerns about how dockworkers and merchants were starting to skim product and goods off the top, shipments often ending up just under their supposed manifest value. It had initially been waved off as a rounding error due to the massive amounts of tonnage that came and went through the port city, but it made more sense this way. _I'll have to bring this up at some point for the councilors. It might make a good ace to play._

"Now, youn' prin—err, young'n." He pronoused the 'ou' as if he were dragging the syllable out to several syllables. "Drink up and let dis ole sailor hear ya woes."

"Thanks." Jarvan said quietly, taking a swig from his mug and sighing softly as he set it back on the table. "I suppose the easiest way to put this is that I'm getting crushed and torn by my responsibilities. To Demacia and my fath—the king, and to the woman I love." The prince shook his head.

"Ah, women troubles." The sailor said ominously and shook his head. "Women is both tha boon and tha destruction of man." He chuckled aloud. "Me pop always used to say: you can't live with em, but you live wiffout them long enough, you come ta realize ya cannut live wiffout em." He tossed back a swig of his drink as he chuckled heartily. He leaned forward, eying Jarvan slyly as rapping the heel of his tankard on the table once.. "Is tha dragun-girl proving more ua a challunge than yous initially thought? Or perhaps jus' a bit too feisty for ya tastes?"

"How do you know about her?" Jarvan narrowed his eyes and glared at the man, but he merely raised a hand and chuckled aloud.

"Ya shouldn' look shocked so, young'n. Is rare thaht sailors ain't the mos' informed uv da common folk. Ain't nuttin for us to do all day but drink, gossip and screw when a ship is waylaid by weatha or circumstahnce." He grinned slyly, shrugging and chuckling under Jarvan's withering glare. The prince finally shook his head and shrugged, leaning down over his drink.

"I wish my problems were as simple as that." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "I have a fiance I didn't know about and now I'm at odds with both after they ran into each other."

"Ooch." The sailor said wincing. "Yah mistress and yah future wife ran into each other? Mayhaps you shoulda kept them a bit more _separate_, lad."

"It wasn't my fault and it wasn't supposed to happen like that." Jarvan said, frowning heavily and taking a deep pull on the mug, dropping it to the table with a bit more force than he had intended. He growled after few moments, letting the burn of the alcohol settle in his throat.

"Do tell." Deadeye wore an amused smirk that smacked of amusement and chagrin. "Cause las' I 'eard, whenever a mistress meets tha woman, it tends ta be tha fault of da man who was picking too much fruit from da tree."

"It's not like that." Jarvan glowered, shaking his head. "I only found about my supposed 'fiance' a few days ago." Jarvan said, staring into the dark abyss of the coffee. "Shyva—the dragoness isn't my mistress, she's the one I'm in love with and she knows it. It turns out that the one I'm engaged to happens to be a doctor who was called in to treat the dragoness's wounds."

"I was ah bit suhprised to find ya withou' guard or her atcher side." The sailor said, his eyebrow raising, showing a bit more of the spiderweb of scars that came from behind the eye patch. "Ya 'ave a fight or sumtin?"

"Something like that, yeah." Jarvan said, a sad smile sliding onto his face. "I jumped a bit to far ahead of myself due to a number of unfortunate circumstances and said a lot of shit I shouldn't have." Jarvan said shrugging. "I was talking aloud to myself, thinking she was still asleep and may have admitted that I was growing tired of all the trouble that we've been through. She took that to mean that she was an unwanted burden now, and she said that we were living a fantasy and that she should just leave. I retorted with a bit too much anger and sarcasm that if she thought it was just a fantasy, I should just go ahead and let the arranged marriage go through."

"Pardon mah frankness, sah, but you dun fucked up, big time." Dead eye said with an impressed snort, tossing back some of his brew and wiping his chin with the back of his hand. "And 'ere I thaught you had jus' managed to call her da wrong name or sumtin." He shook his head, looking down at the table and frowning. "Tis a bit mah complicayted. Whater ya gon do bout it?"

"I... I don't know yet." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "I kinda turned my back and got out before things descended down to even worse things and my sergeant major and sergeant could tear any deeper into me." He shrugged, wrapping his hands around the barrel of the mug, lifting it to his face. "And they say Demacians never retreat." Jarvan snorted in disgust at himself.

"Ain't nuttin' wrong wiff advancing in another direction tah attack from da flank, young'n." The sailor said with a shrug. "I may not be a shinin' 'zample of yer Deamcian ideals and all dat hoo-hah, but I do appreciate da fact that you's not losin anything by taking some time tah look at da problem from anutter angle."

"But what angle?" Jarvan said, shaking his head. "What could I ever do if she actually left or if she decided she was better off without me?" He looked to the sailor, and though Deadeye looked as if he had been caught off guard, he scratched at the flesh just under the narrow strip of short black hair that ran from his forehead to his neck over the top of his head.

"Yous could do da obvious and jus' apologize." Deadeye said, shrugging. He frowned slightly, smiling as Jarvan tossed off the last of his coffee and then set the mug on the table, exhaling slowly. "Women may be emotionful crittahs, but they is also much smarter than mos' men." he chuckled aloud as if he knew something Jarvan did not. "Men only wan a few tings in life." He held up his hand extending a finger. "A roof over 'ead." Another finger went up. "Enough money to pay for booze so he don' ave to remember wha' he did to gets da money." Another finger. "And pussy." He shrugged and grinned. "From da sound of things, you had all da things right there for ya and you's pissing away one for anutter."

"I wish things were that simple." Jarvan said, glowering. He started to tip his mug up, but he looked at the bottom of the earthenware and sighed, dropping it back to the table.

"I believe it is, young'n." Deadeye laughed. "You had da roof and da money, but you're squandering tha pussy so as ta not scare away da roof." He shrugged and grinned. "Maybe ya needs ta sit down and haves a nice long chat wit da roof about why he's not keepin ya dry with ya choice o' pussy." He chuckled aloud and then pushed himself to his feet, tossing off the last of his ale and standing up, his chair scraping against the floor. He extended his hand towards the prince's mug. "You ponder dat for a few whiles I go and scare us up more grog, aight?"

Jarvan looked at the mug and then handed it off to the man, nodding solemnly. "Thanks, Deadeye."

"Worry not, lad." He chuckled. "The night is still young." He wandered off towards the bar, tottering ever so slightly as he picked his way through tables and the throng of men who clamored and drank.

"Have a talk with the roof, eh?" Jarvan mused, sitting back and shaking his head as a smile played over his lips. _I have yet to have a serious talk with my father about any of this._ He ran a hand over his jaw, stroking some of the stubble on his chin and shaking his head after a few moments. "Perhaps..." _Perhaps it is time I sat him down and made him realize that I'm not just his son anymore. I grew up a long time ago, but I wonder if he ever actually realized that? I knew it took me two years to do so_. Jarvan sank lower in his seat, wearing an ironic smile on his face. _I suppose I didn't learn anything if I came back and tried to bull my way about in the exact same way as the last time. It might serve to try and do something mature about it for once._ _If I can sort all of that out with father... then perhaps it will be easier to settle with Shyvana._ He frowned and shook his head, sighing. _No, Shyvana comes first. She has been my biggest supporter, even if we've barely had any time together over these past months. She's done nothing but be there for me when I needed her and squandering all of this may have been the dumbest thing I've ever done... even dumber than leading my company into that camp._

Jarvan pushed himself up, a confident but thin smile on his face as he nodded his head to himself, his mind made up about what he was to do. _First I reconcile with Shyvana. I need to show her that I'm sorry and that she is more important to me than anything in my life. She may hate me for hating my father... but for her sake, I can at least give him one last chance. _Jarvan let his gaze wander around the room for a few moments, taking in the rough and tumble exterior of the dockside tavern, and then frowned slightly as his thoughts turned to the crusty, one-eyed sailor who seemed to have made everything make sense so easily. _They may be a bit rough on the outside... but I bet they're all honest, working men and women. _He watched an exchange of money under a table and then a woman ushered a man to follow after her as she headed to the stairs that lead up towards the many inn rooms. _Okay, maybe not honest, but they are working._ He laughed silently to himself, continuing to watch the bar. He glanced to the opposite corner of the room, looking for the ominous figure who had been watching him, but there was no one at the table, just an empty tankard and a few bronze coins. Jarvan glanced around the open room of the tavern, looking for the hooded red beard, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Jarvan shook his head. _Must have been my imagination._

"'Ere ya go." The mug dropped down on the table in front of him as Deadeye dropped into his chair, sloshing some of his foamy brew onto the table. He dropped another shot glass of whiskey into the drink and swirled it once before tossing it back and taking a long pull. He dropped the mug to the table with a loud _clink_, a grin spreading on his face as he wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand. "Come on, young'n, drink up! The night is young!"

Jarvan wrapped his hands around the barrel of the mug and started to lift the mug to his face, but after a few moments of staring into the swirling black depths, he dropped the mug back to the table and sighed. "I did some thinking about what you said."

"You did?" Deadeye chimed, though after a few moments he shook his head and grinned. "Ah mean, of course ya did! Good, good! Wha'd ya come up wit?" He looked expectantly to the mug, but Jarvan looked determined and ignored it.

"I know that I was wrong, and I knew that coming in. But I didn't realize how many simple things I had screwed up." He sighed softly and then met Deadeye's gaze and smiled. "I just wanted to say thanks for the advice. I'm glad I took that drink with you."

"Aye." The sailor said softly, eying the mug but he nodded and offered the prince a grin.

"Now, I must apologize, but I have someone I really have to go apologize to." Jarvan dropped a coin on the table. "As thanks for lending me your time, Deadeye. Till we meet again." Jarvan's chair scraped along the wooden floor as he stood, offering the sailor an earnest smile. He touched his hand to the corner of his brow in a farewell salute.

"You could do ahn ole' man good by sharin' dis las' drink den." Deadeye raised his brew and gestured to Jarvan's mug with the beel of the tankard. "Shall yer seas naught be stormy nor deathly still, mah prince."

Jarvan grabbed the mug from the table and matched Deadeye's smile, lifting it and clinking it against the sailor's tankard. Jarvan froze as a loud shout came from the other side of the room as the young woman Jarvan had seen come in earlier sent her tankard crashing into the head of a drunk, completely flooring the man. She held her hands over her chest as if she had been gropped. A mixture of shouted laughs and scoldings went up, a few guards rising up from their seats to investigate the matter. Jarvan watched the guards mutter to themselves as they wound through the crowd. He shook his head, looking back to the drink he held in hand and the man he shared a table with. He raised the mug slightly and nodded his head.

"And calm seas and brisk winds to you on your next voyage, friend." Jarvan said softly, lifting the mug to his face.

Someone bumped into the prince from behind, sloshing a healthy amount of the coffee and whiskey down the prince's cloak and jacket. Jarvan spluttered, surprised, dropping the mug to the table and turning, holding his arms away from his body and looking cross as he glanced down. He looked at Deadeye who had gone pale, but the surprise on his face was unexpected, as if he had seen a ghost. Jarvan looked back to the person who had bumped into him, brushing some of the lingering drink from the folds and creases of his cloak and tunic.

"What the hell happened to courtesy, you dumb bastar—wait, Lee?" Jarvan stammered, blinking a few times, his arms falling slightly.

"Prince Jarvan?" The tall, dark haired sergeant looked equally surprised when he looked at the prince and then down to his tunic, a thin smile spreading over his face. "You look like shit, sir."

Jarvan sighed, and scrubbed his hands over his face, shaking his head. "No thanks to you. What are you doing down here in the docks, Lee?" He grumbled audibly, his eyes narrowing as he fit the sergeant with a glare. "Following me again? I thought I told you to cut that shit out."

"Nothing of the sort, sir." Lee said, a slight frown playing over his face. "I finished my shift and I came down here to meet a friend who had just come in a day prior on one of the trade vessels. The bad weather has kept him a bit bogged down."

"Ah." Jarvan said, nodding morosely, though he shrugged. "Well regardless, perhaps you'd like to escort me back to the Palace?"

"Of course, sir." Lee said, nodding his head and bowing slightly. He paused, looking around the bar, meeting the gaze of a few of the patrons who were now shamelessly staring at the exchange. Even the bar had dropped to a complete silence, not even the rustle of cloaks could be heard in the tavern. "Go back to your drink, folks, nothing to see here. Official business."

The din slowly rose again, though as Jarvan looked around the room, there were many eyes now sneaking glances back at him under arms and over shoulders. Everyone had been oblivious to the prince's presence, but now everyone seemed enamored. The prince sighed and shook his head, looking back to Deadeye to apologize.

"Sorry abou-..." He frowned. The man was gone. _I wonder where he could have disappeared to? _The prince worked his jaw for a few moments, scratching his chin and looking about for the sailor but again, he didn't exactly blame the man for scampering when a Palace Guardsman turned up. _Being caught with the prince wouldn't exactly be a good situation to have to explain. _

Jarvan sighed. "Let's go, Lee." He muttered, casting a frown at the sergeant. Though he didn't trust the man with the safety of his other subordinates, he supposed he could trust him with his own life. _It wouldn't serve Demsec to lose me now._

"Of course, sir." Lee said, gesturing for the prince to led the way.

Jarvan had forgotten about the icy bite of the wind as they pushed through the snow, now a hand's length abovve Jarvan's knee and still growing. Though the rate at which it fell had slowed considerably, it was still coming down in large flakes that stood out against the darkening sky. Lamplighters roamed the dock streets, carrying their long ignition-charm staves, lifting the curious looking sticks to the lanterns and clicking a trigger, flames bursting to life in the lantern boxes, protected from the wind. Though more wasteful that traditional lantern lighting techniques, the staffs were effective in the strong winds. The sergeant trudged along beside him, his eyes remaining vigilant and perceptive despite the waning light and the falling snow as the orbs of light flickered on around them.

"So, sergeant, want to explain exactly what you were doing there in the tavern?" Jarvan broke the silence as they trudged into the orb of light of a lit lantern.

"Sir?" Lee wore a look of confusion. "I already explained to you, I was-..."

"I may look and feel like shit, Lee, but that doesn't mean I'm as dumb as shit." Jarvan said, glaring at the sergeant. "I know you're not who you proclaim to be, so you can drop the damned act. It's getting tiring."

The look of surprise that rode on Lee's face was genuine and Jarvan allowed himself a thin smile of victory.

"Sir, I don't know what you mean." Lee said obstinately, shaking his head.

"Oh drop the damned act." Jarvan growled, shaking his head. "I know you're on General Jormander's payroll, and I've really just had about enough arguments today. Just tell me what the hell you were doing there."Lee's face fell slightly, though the normally placid man's face looked surprisingly relaxed for a few moments, relief clear on his mug as he sighed and chuckled softly, doing his best to return his face to its normally clam appearance.

"Very well." He said, nodding. "I was looking for a man who is suspected of smuggling. I play double duty for Jormander in my off hours, and my 'boyfriend' is just a contact identity for the handler who I report to." He shrugged. "Normal meeting, just a different place." Jarvan glared at Lee but didn't see any lies or deception in the man's face. He finally shrugged.

"Alright." He sighed, shaking his head. "Sorry... it's been a very long couple of days."

"I understand your anger with my deception, but I also appreciate your understanding that I am still loyal to Demacia and the house of Lightshield, even if my loyalties do not lie directly with you."

Jarvan grunted and rolled his eyes. "How good of your to remind me."

"Your highness!" A voice from the street they were crossing caused both Jarvan and Lee to trudge to a stop.

"Sergeant Major?" Jarvan said aloud, blinking a few times. The lanky, muscled man powered through the snow, somehow managing to maintain his dignity as he walked, though he looked slightly disheveled as he clambered closer. "How did you..."

"Noel suggested I check the docks." The sergeant major growled, breathing a sigh of relief. "She said that you often came here when you needed time to think when you were younger."

"Leave it to Noel to know things about me that even I don't know." Jarvan said, laughing lightly.

"Sergeant Lee, what are you doing here?" The sergeant major said, turning to the sergeant, a cautious and worried look upon his face.

"I ran into the prince while doing something for my commander." The sergeant said, shrugging. "I was going to bring him back to the palace, but you can do it in my stead."

The sergeant major didn't look particularly trustful, but he nodded tersely. "I shall take him back to the palace from here, sergeant. Thank you."

"Of course." Lee said with a thin smile. He bowed to the prince and saluted the sergeant major. "If you will excuse me, then, I'm going to attend to my previous business. Good evening sir." Jarvan watched as Lee disappeared into the evening snow.

"I still don't trust him." Jarvan growled, shaking his head. "Come on, Sergeant Major. I have some apologies that need to be made."

The sergeant major blinked a few times but nodded. "Of course, sir."


	30. Chapter 29: Marksman

Jarvan rose early the next morning to a world that was frosted in a thick layer of ice and snow. His body felt ragged and tired, and the poignant memories of laying in bed, staring at the ceiling cut into him like a knife. He sat down heavily at his desk, the chair creaking in protest of his weight as he eyed a murky cup of coffee left for him.

"Shyvana..." His voice cracked as he whispered the name, the pain of her absence cutting deeper than ever before. _I wish I could see you now and apologize! I'd give anything to see you..._ Jarvan's hand quivered as he tried to lift the cup to his lips, spilling several drops upon the desktop. He eased the cup back and sighed softly, giving himself a moment to calm down._ I can't function after last night._ He tried against to pick the cup up, but the shaking seemed to have only gotten worse. Jarvan cursed silently, dropping the cup and massaging his hand. He closed his eyes, the memories of the last evening still fresh in his mind.

_I made my way directly back to the Medical college, but it had already been closed for the evening and the guards were under strict orders not to give anyone entrance. _He had to untangle his fist from his pant leg, slowly spreading his palm upon the desktop._ I suppose I have father to thank for this, though. I don't suppose a bit more time to let me cool my head or for Shyvana to heal is necessarily a bad thing. _Jarvan felt a pang of grief strike in his heart._ I... I don't want this. I can't stand this._ His fist laced around the arm of his chair, the wood protesting again as he tried to control his anger and grief. _I need to get my mind off of this. Something. Anything. _A blue and silver tapestry caught his eye as he gave his room a cursory glance for a approached the far wall, behind his desk and slightly to the right, against the wall that separated his bedroom and study, a tapestry hanging from the top, hiding a bookcase.

He tugged the tapestry aside and felt his frown slacken ever so slightly as he looked at the tangled spider web of different plots and occurrences about Runeterra that all tied back to Swain in one way or another. _Perhaps I can make some sense of this now._ Many of them had been carried out at Swain's orders if nothing else, but there was some larger game that they were all working towards. _What could Swain be trying to accomplish by promoting war and inciting conflict? War is a bloody thing, and it wastes huge amounts of resources... _Jarvan stopped and placed his finger on one of the top most threads and started following it down.

_Birth of Swain._ _Border war flanking attack. Marshes of Kaladoun and the Death of Captain Bithowzer from mental insanity_. Jarvan frowned as he ran his fingers along a number of similar occurrences that seemed to have various different unifying factors, often the presence of ravens as reported during after action reports from different officers. Jarvan stopped, his finger hovering over one of the notes that sat in the middle of one of the long strands. _Swain attempts assassination of Jarvan IV. I remember the night well, it was cold and dark_. He looked to the window. _I had stepped out onto the balcony for some fresh air when Swain had emerged from the shadows wit a crossbow aimed at my chest_. Jarvan wore a thin grin._ If it had not been for a guard announcing his presence, I would have been shot and killed_. The guard didn't make it unfortunately. In Swain's excitement he had spun and immediately fired at the guard and killed the man in a matter of seconds, the fast acting poison coursing through his veins. Another guard had been waiting outside and had heard the first cry out as he died. Jarvan shivered. _I suppose Swain's hatred of me does go back pretty far. _

He followed the string a bit further down and paused his finger above the largest tie-in he had figured that Swain was indirectly involved in. _The Noxian invasion of Ionia. _Jarvan frowned. Demacian records on the subject had been thin. While Demacia prepared for war as the attack on Ionia came, request for aid never came from the Ionians. By the time the attack had ended, Noxus had a firm hold on several of the island nation's largest, southern-most provinces. Demacia cringed, standing idly by as Noxus tried to worm their way into the Ionian political system, attempting to force signatures and placing agents within the Ionian Government, to all but nullify the illegitimacy of their invasion and the violations of the Institute of War's rules. But that never panned out as expected. The Ionians proved more stubborn than many had suspected, and managed to repel the invasion of their political system, unlike they had done in their defense of their country. The invasion had been a bold and brash maneuver, and it had been expected to be carried out swiftly, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake, but things again didn't quite work out for the Noxians. Their stagnation had forced Noxus to extreme measures. Jarvan had seen pictures of the terrifying weapons that the Noxian's had employed to hasten their advance, often cutting down their own troops if they became waylaid. Fear and the desire for promotion drove most Noxian troops into a blood thirsty frenzy in the war torn country. It had been a long and bloody conflict for the Noxians, but they had made their mark in blood upon the Ionian nation.

Jarvan had been hesitant to put the entirety of the Noxian Invasion upon the board because unlike all of the other occurrences, there was no direct way to tie it to Swain. There had been several accounts of Swain's actions during the invasion, but surprisingly, there weren't outstanding or extraordinary. His unit had made a clean sweep as they advanced across the nation, avoiding most of the serious fighting and most of the stagnation. That was the first of the problems Jarvan had with the conflict. Swain never avoided conflict, rather, he thrived in it. His unit had been unmolested in its advance, but there was one report from an analyst that had piqued Jarvan's curiosity. In his analysis of the Ionian's defense of their nation, a Second Lieutenant Febevin had stated that many of Ionia's key cities and installations that order depended upon had been left woefully unguarded. The Provincial Warlords who ran each of the smaller states that made up Ionia had called back their troops to defend their own holdings in the south of Ionia, where the Noxian Invasion had stemmed from. Several major location, such as the Southern Temple of the Elders, one of the many meeting places of the Ionian High Council, had fallen easily with the surrounding city, leaving Swain and his men unmolested as they advanced. The provincial lords were also the reason the war had been so problematic. Though the capital had fallen, there were not enough troops to hold the city, the bulk of the Noxian army stymied by the Ionian forces appearing where they were not expected, guerrilla tactics and desperate power they seemed to glean from their own nation's defense. Swain had quickly been forced out of the capital as the Ionians counterattacked.

This had left Swain without anything to his name. He had been unable to prove his strength rather than that he was just a competent commander in a poor situation. He had been unopposed at first and then vastly out numbered and lacking for supplies. He faced annihilation and retreated due to the failure of the Noxian Army, but he bore a mantle of shame when he was withdrawn from the conflict to attend to domestic matters. The officers who had swept up through the countryside to the east had faced the worst of the war, often dealing with heavy fighting and dangerous traps laid by ruthless Ionian commanders once they had realized what was happening. _Swain was betrayed by his own tactical brilliance. He had counted on the corruption of nobles, but not their sense of self preservation. _Jarvan sighed, shaking his head. _Swain drove the dagger deep, seeking fame, but eventually everything else around him failed and the house of cards came down._ _Ionia was supposed to be his moment of glory, not shame._

Jarvan tapped the scrap of paper thoughtfully but finally frowned, nodding his head. _Ionia was a failure for Swain, not the actual Military success. He may have had a hand in its happening, but he didn't get what he wanted from it. But what does he want?_ Jarvan growled and shook his head, that large, singular question remaining hanging in his mind. Swain had not been a part of the initial Noxian-Ionian match within the Institute of war, and the rematch as well had been out of his hands, both leading to woeful loss for Noxus. _These seem like failures for Swain. He was not allowed to make his mark, or there was no progress. Perhaps it drove him to more radical means?_

Jarvan ran his hand over several more scraps of paper until he landed on one scrap that gave him pause. _The sinking of the DDS excursion, with all hands lost and signs of Noxian Necromancy._ Jarvan glowered as his finger hesitated over the the scrap of paper. _What did Swain gain from having a ship sunk? The Excursion was simply a merchant vessel, was it not?_ Jarvan paused, thinking. _What if it was not the ship that Swain desired, but its cargo or a passenger ?_ Jarvan turned back towards the large table in the center of his study and started flipping through the records, searching for the copy of records he had received from his friend, Garen Crownguard, regarding the sinking. _Here it is._ He pushed through the first few pages of the folder, flipping through the content till he paused at the ship's manifest. _If there was anything suspicious about the manifest or the passengers..._ He frowned as he read over the long list of cargo, numerous different items listed that were being shipped back from the Freljord. _Even if there was something amiss with this manifest, I couldn't make heads or tails of it. _Jarvan frowned and then pulled the document, sticking it in his pocket and then looking for another document contained with in the file. He flipped through several more pages and finally found the crew and passenger list. He looked through it quickly, noting that the ships had several notes on it about the final three crew members. They had been guards that had been assigned to the ship at the last moment due to the sickness of several of the ship's standing guard detachment.

_If anyone were to try something, these guards would have been in the perfect position to make it happen. _Jarvan pulled the list out as well and took it and the cargo manifest in hand, turning back to the board. _Perhaps I can go down to the docks and ask around after I check on Shyvana. Maybe Deadeye is familiar with a Marlin class cargo sloop. He can help me. _He paused for a second, tucked the papers under his arm and turned back to his desk, grabbing a sheet of parchment and a quill. He scribbled two notes down on the bottom of the sheet of parchment and then neatly tore two squares off and fished two thumbtacks out of his desk.

Turning back to the make shift map, he followed the main trail, a strand of red thread, down from the attack on the DDS excursion and that dead end to where a scrap of paper read 'Disappearance of Marcus Du Couteau: promotion of Swain to high command'. The stand of red string hung limply from that and Jarvan smiled, taking it in hand. Jarvan posted the first of the two scraps of paper: _'Noxian-Ionian Rematch: Ionia regains freedom.'_ He wrapped the thread around the thumbtack as he pushed it into the spine of a book. He took the second and pushed it in slightly below the first:_ 'Assassination attempt of Shyvana, Demacian Palace.'_ Jarvan attached the red string to that and then let it hang, taking several steps backwards and then looking at the latest of the two. _It may not have been directly aimed at me, but it was definitely aimed towards me. Agitation or angering me wouldn't directly serve to gain Swain anything though, would it? _Jarvan frowned, looking the map up and down. _Damnit. Another dead end. I'm afraid what might happen if I spend anymore time waiting. _

Jarvan stepped back and frowned, looking over his map of terror and the trail of pain that had been inflicted upon Runeterra._ Something is missing. Some unifying factor... something just isn't here!_

"But what..." Jarvan growled aloud. "It's almost as if there is a trail and then a bunch that are just... out of place." He walked his hand down the string, still hesitating on some but he ended up growling and shaking his head. _I still can't place it, but something seems... off!_

Jarvan shook his head and stood back, still pondering the board but a knock interrupted his thoughts. A smile spread over his face as he stood up taller, excitedly. _That should be the Sergeant Major! Time to go mend things and visit with Shyvana. _The prince took a deep breath to collect his nerves. He tucked the sheets that displayed the Excursion's cargo manifest and crew and passenger list into his jacket pocket, folding them up as he did. _This can wait. I have something important to attend to now! _

The knock came again, this time more urgently.

"I'm coming." Jarvan said, frowning, shaking his head as he headed to the door, tugging his jacket over his shoulders. He opened the door and blinked a few times, surprised to see Delancey standing there. "Del? What are you doing here? Why aren't you with Shyvana?"

"Vorscham sent Alicia to check in on her when a messenger arrived looking for you, thinking you'd be there." She looked agitated, but she took a quick breath, trying to reign her excitement in before she continued. "There's been a... _problem,_ sir."

"Is Shyvana alright?" Jarvan snapped, surprise and anger jumping into his voice.

The anger and vehemence in Jarvan's tone obviously caught the sergeant off guard. She stumbled back half a step and glared at Jarvan. She worked her jaw for a second as if to slowly break herself from the shock. "Don't worry, sir, she's perfectly fine." Delancey shook her head as Jarvan sighed in relief. "Something has happened down at the docks."

"Something happened?" Jarvan said, blinking a few times, frowning. "I was there last night, did something happen to the sergeant major or sergeant Lee?"

"Lee was at the docks last night?" Delancey said, surprise again clear upon her face. She shook her head again and frowned slightly. "Never mind. The Sergeant Major is already on the scene, that's why he's not here." Delancey said hurriedly. "I'm not sure what happened, but there is a big fuss right now. DSB requested your presence, sir."

"DSB?" Jarvan blinked a few times, frowning. What does Jormander want now? Jarvan's jaw dropped slightly as things keyed into place. _Lee said he was monitoring me to see if I was mentally competent... If last night says anything, Shyvana and I might be in trouble! _Jarvan's hands convulsed into fist and he punched the air in frustration. _Goddamnit! Lee, you snake. you fooled me again! _Jarvan forced a calmer expression on his face, but as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, he knew Del would know how felt. "I already have plans, _sergeant."_ Jarvan said through gritted teeth. Delancey withered slightly as pain appeared on her face as if she were pulling a nail from her foot.

"Apologies, sir, but your presence has been ordered by General Jormander and I can't do anything about it." Delancey said softly, a hurt expression still lingering on her face. "I'm just passing the message on."

Jarvan ran a hand through his hair as he stepped away from the sergeant and took a deep breath to calm himself. He turned back to her and nodded tersely. "Apologies for my tone, sergeant. I am _slightly_ on edge."

"Of course, sir." Her voice had become slightly withdrawn. There's a carriage waiting for you at the front entrance, sir. The matter is supposedly very urgent."

Jarvan frowned, trying to think if anything else could have caused this urgency. _If Lee had been following me and had caught me saying or doing something wrong I wouldn't be going down to the docks on DSB orders... I would be in DSB custody._ Jarvan's frown darkened as he shook his head, banishing the foul thoughts from his head. _What in the world is going on? _He turned to her and fit her with a deathly serious glare, taking her slightly aback.

"Are you sure Shyvana is safe?" Jarvan said, leaning slightly towards the sergeant. Del took a half step backwards as she looked up at Jarvan's expression. He nodded her head quickly.

"I'm sure, sir." Del said, glancing to the floor. "Alicia Juniper is with her, and there are multiple Victoria Company soldiers on guard with her. They came with orders from Vorscham to stand guard over the two of them."

_Always a step ahead of me, Proudmast._ Jarvan let the tension in his shoulder slacken only slightly.

"We should hurry, sir." Delancey said quietly, as if afraid to speak to him. He started towards the door and paused, glancing down at her.

_She doesn't deserve this treatment. _Jarvan sighed softly and stood up a bit straight, patting her on the shoulder and offering her a weak smile. "Thanks, Del." Jarvan said quietly.

She watched him, expressionless but she finally nodded and gestured to the door.

* * *

The sound of the wheels striking the cobblestone lined streets and the howling wind assaulting the side of the carriage had drowned out of most of the silence through most of the city. There had been an awkward silence that hung over the carriage as it rolled jumpily along, and Jarvan had eventually just closed his eyes to step himself from continuously glancing at Delancey.

"Shyvana has been worried sick about you, I hope you know." Delancey murmured as the carriage trundled along. Delancey's words had caused Jarvan to open his eyes and look up, a frown cresting his face as he met her gaze. Anger tinged her eyes and furrowed her brow. "You had her in tears when you stormed out last night, _sir._" Jarvan winced at the way she hissed the last word. He sat up and leaned forward, staring at the floor of the carriage as his shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. He ran both of his hands over his face and sat back, not bothering to hide the pain he felt.

"I know." Jarvan said softly, letting his head fall back against the wall of the carriage. "I've been worried sick about her." He bunched the bottom of his tunic up in his hands as fists tightened atop his legs. "I couldn't sleep last night. I only managed to calm myself this morning by working over all of my notes. I could barely concentrate as it were. I could hardly see straight enough to read." There was tension and regret in his face that gave the sergeant pause. "I was in a pitiful state last night, worse than I've ever acted. I was petty and rash and a massive fucking idiot all at once. I screwed up bad and I know it."

"I would hope so, sir." Delancey said softly, uncomfortable as she intently glared at the ground. "I know I'm just a lowly bodyguard and only a sergeant before a prince, but it pains me to see the two of you at odds." She refused to meet Jarvan's surprised glare.

Jarvan sunk back slightly, letting the bounce of the carriage knock his head about. "I suppose I should say thank you for the support, but I don't exactly know if it's a good thing that you care so much about my love life, Del."

"A simple thank you would suffice." She said, shaking her head. "I may not be very old, but I understand the hardship that has come from your separation from her and the immense stress that both of you are under right now. While I think you're a god damned fool for taking your anger out on her yesterday, I don't know if I can't understand the weight that's on your shoulders. I suppose I understand it a bit better than most, but the fighting with your father... it's unsettling at times, even for me. I can only imagine how Shyvana feels."

"I know." Jarvan said softly, nodding his head. "My father and I have never really seen eye to eye. He likes to think and to plan and to talk, while I prefer a much more headstrong approach when it comes to problem solving."

"You would rather charge through the brick wall rather than walk around?" Delancey said with a sly grin finally breaking onto her face.

Jarvan chuckled aloud and leaned forward, finally smiling. "Yeah, though my father would try to talk it into moving out of the way." He shook his head, running a hand through his long hair as he sank back, the smile withering. "It's a fundamental difference I suppose. He sought out armistices while I suffered through training on the front lines and seeing how much pain Noxus could inflict in even the smallest of ways. I never understood why Demacia preaches its own absolute strength and then father refused to go blow for blow with the Noxians. For every ounce of blood I witnessed spilled, I wished my father would spill two in response, but he refused to do anything."

"But he was doing something, wasn't he?" Delancey said, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest, swaying slightly as the carriage passed over a nasty bump.

"He was perpetuating the peace, gathering information and making sure a full on war did not break out, yes." Jarvan said, nodding his head. "I was blind to the larger game when I was younger, often questioning his methods and the inane choices he made at times. I only wish I knew what he was thinking now."

"It seems political at best." Delancey said with a slight frown. "Could it simply about learning a lesson, sir? Perhaps he's trying to teach you something."

"I can't imagine what it could be though." Jarvan said somberly. "I was chasing glory, trying to escape my father's shadow and it only led me further into the darkness. I emerged stronger after finding Shyvana. She finally made me realize what power could be: It wasn't about slaying something and proving my strength to others, it was about protecting what I loved at all costs. She is the source of my strength... why can't he see that?"

"Maybe he hasn't seen it yet, though." Delancey said with a frown. "He may be just as stressed as you with all of the problems you've dealt with. He probably has to deal with them as well." Jarvan frowned at the thought and remained silent. Delancey coughed and tried to push onwards. "Can I ask you a question, sir?"

Jarvan looked up, though in his pale bluish gray eyes, Delancey could see that the edge of the pain had softened slightly. "Sure, Del, I owe you that much at least."

"You and Shyvana killed the dragon that slew her father and your men. Isn't that just bloodshed, rather than protecting something you love?" Delancey said with a frown pulling on her lips.

"At the time we were protecting something, Del." Jarvan said softly. "Each other, Valoran, and what we thought to be a ruthless and vengeful threat to the sanctity of the world. Kampf was a heartless beast driven to two things: Shyvana's death and the eradication of anything he didn't see as strong enough to live on his twisted version of Runeterra. So we killed him to protect everything. It may have been a vengeance for Shyvana's father and my men... but it was so much more than that."

"I see." Delancey said softly, nodding her head. "Can I-..."

"Another question?" Jarvan said, grinning thinly as he looked at Del. "I don't see why you should stop now."

"Yes sir." Delancey said, blushing in embarrassment as she nodded. "When you returned to Demacia, your best friend was revered as a hero and your... " She frowned, looking for the word.

"Failure?" Jarvan suggested, a bit of sadness and the soft tone of oppression hanging in his voice.

"I wouldn't call it that, sir." She said, looking to the floor. "I don't think anyone could have predicted what happened to you and your company." Jarvan frowned but Delancey kept going. "Your best friend was the hero and you were haunted by the specter of your shattered company. Is that the only reason you fled Demacia with the twelve survivors in tow?" Delancey asked quietly, ducking her head to avoid a potentially angry glare from Jarvan.

"Yes and no." Jarvan said calmly, not letting his temper flare. "It was partially to escape my shame and partially to avoid the scorn of the public eye once it came out that I had led the men to the ambush. I couldn't live with myself like that, and I ended up leaving Demacia until I had proven to myself that I was deserving of the mantle I had been given."

"That was a noble cause." Delancey said, trying to sound cheerful, though the remark died in the somber tone of the carriage. "And I assume you found your resolve while you were gone?"

"Yes and no." Jarvan said again, an amused smile playing over his face. "I found I had the strength and willpower to face the worst of Runeterra, but after nearly two years, I still lacked the resolve I wished to find."

"What changed in those last few months?" Delancey whispered quietly.

"Two things came crashing into my life." Jarvan said, a grin threatening to break onto his face. "The first descended upon my men and I and killed several of our number. That was the dragon I spoke of, Kampf. The second came shortly afterwords. The second... The second thing was something completely unexpected." Jarvan now wore a smile as he sighed softly.

"What was that?" Delancey said with a grin, practically hanging off the edge of her seat, literally and figuratively.

"I met a dirty young woman, dressed in rags and deep red hair, standing over the corpse of a slain dragon." Jarvan said now grinning broadly.

"Shyvana?" Delancey said, surprised. Jarvan nodded.

"She lashed out and attacked me, I subdued her and from there... the rest is history." Jarvan laughed.

"She tried to kill you?" Delancey repeated, alarmed. "And you fuc—I mean you fell in love with her?"

Jarvan snorted. "There was a lot in between our meeting and our relationship maturing as such." Jarvan said, glaring at the woman for a few moments. "We slew the dragon that had killed the few survivors of my company left alive, and we were drawn into a plot that now embroils us all. At first I had thought that the dragon had been drawn into the conflict, but now, I don't actually if that was true or if that was just something I pieced together to try and make sense of it all at the time." The prince shrugged. "Regardless, I had found the resolve I was missing, though it took me a few months to figure that out."

"You found it in Shyvana?" Delancey said, surprised.

Jarvan nodded again. "Her dedication to her father, though he had been slain, was startling and brutal. It reminded me that while I did not appreciate my father as I should, and I may have been out seeking my own glory, I should defend Demacia with the same ferocity and dedication that Shyvana showed when she stood over the body of her father." Jarvan sighed and sunk back slightly in his seat. "I may not appreciate my father, and at times I actively hate him, but he was right about one thing."

"What is that, sir?" Delancey said, frowning.

"There is no bond stronger than blood." Jarvan said softly, closing his eyes.

"I know of one that is just as strong, sir." Delancey said, blushing slightly.

Jarvan opened his eyes and looked to the sergeant, surprised by her blushed cheeks. "Oh?"

"Love, sir." She said, ducking her head to hide her eyes. "The bond you and Miss Shyvana have is strong, sir." Jarvan blinked a few times, staring at the sergeant. She glanced up at him and then back down to the ground. "Apologies sir! I didn't mean to jump into your personal life again!" Jarvan laughed aloud, shaking his head and sighing after a few long moments. He wore a lopsided smile as he met Delancey's grin.

"You know, Del, I think you're right." Jarvan said, grinning. "Forged in the fires of iron, blood and anger, that bond is truly strong. I may have tried to break it yesterday, but I hope that when Shyvana and I emerge, that bond will have only been forged from iron to steel." His smile fell slightly, and a sad, distant look settled on his face. "I just hope I just get the chance to say how sorry I am and how big of an idiot I've been."

"You will, sir." Delancey said happily, grinning from ear to ear. The carriage lurched to a halt and Delancey glanced out the window. She turned to the prince and nodded. "We're here, sir." Jarvan nodded in response, wrapping his scarf around his neck and tucking the ends into his jacket. Delancey started to open the door, but Jarvan grabbed her arm. She looked back over her shoulder. "Sir?"

"For the record, Del, Thanks." Jarvan said, sheepishly. "I made a bit of an ass out of myself last night, and I wanted to thank you for hearing me out."

"Anytime, sir." She said, nodding. "Perhaps you should just talk things out next time. I've found that it's a bit easier that way."

Jarvan chuckled. "That it is." Delancey pushed the door open and clambered down, Jarvan following her as he pulled on his gloves. He looked left and right, catching the gaze of the sergeant major who was deep in conversation with a lieutenant from the the DSB. Jarvan nodded to sergeant major who turned back to the Lieutenant, said a few words, snapped off a salute and then walked over, using his long strides to hasten his advance rather than jogging. The sergeant major snapped to attention and saluted.

Jarvan returned the salute, dropping it quickly. "What do you have for me, sergeant major?" Jarvan said briskly as the carriage pulled off, exposing Jarvan to the biting wind.

"Apologies for not being there this morning, sir." The sergeant major growled, casting a glance over his shoulder. I went for a drink last night after returning you to the palace and ran into an officer from the DSB I had been pretty chummy with."

"You? Friends?" Delancey teased with mock shock. Jarvan grinned, but their words were quickly quelled by the look on the sergeant majors face.

"I'll see to it you get to run laps until you puke, Delancey." He growled menacingly. "Don't push me." She paled slightly and nodded. "Good, now, the officer was summoned just as we were getting to the tavern, and while I only caught a snippet of what the courier was saying, it was enough to cause me to look into the incident this morning."

"What's going on, sergeant major?" Jarvan said, tucking his gloved hands into his pockets. "Nobody seems willing to tell me what's actually happening here."

"Yes sir." The sergeant major said, nodding. "There was a man found murdered in that alley last night." He pointed to a narrow break between a large granite structure that Jarvan assumed were a warehouse and a tavern. Jarvan frowned slightly, vaguely recognizing the shape of the building.

_That looks like the tavern I was at last night._ Jarvan straightened his tunic. "That happens from time to time, sergeant major. The docks are a rough place, even here in Demacia."

"That's not exactly the case, sir." The sergeant major's frown darkened and he gestured for Jarvan to follow him. "If you'll follow me, it gets a bit difficult to explain." Jarvan nodded, following the sergeant major as he pushed through the thin crowd of dock workers that had nothing better to do than stand around and ogle the military police as they carried out their business. "The victim was found late last night by a drunk who had stumbled out of the tavern for a leak. He reported it to the Military Police who in turn handed it over to DSB after finding a few articles on the so called _'victim'."_

"Wait, so he wasn't the victim?" Jarvan said with a frown, moving past several uniformed Demsec soldiers.

"Well he was, but he's not who we initially thought." The sergeant major said ominously. They approached a cluster of men who had crowded around the side of one of the granite walls, talking in low voices.

"General." The sergeant major said, raising his voice slightly. One of the men leaned backwards and looked to the sergeant major and Jarvan behind him. The prince's stomach fluttered and flip-flopped in his body, a grim frown settling on his face.

"Ah, Prince Jarvan." General Geoffrey Jormander wore a thin smile as he stepped away from the group, moving towards where the prince stood rooted to the ground. Jarvan saluted promptly, as did Delancey, and the general returned the salute after a few moments. "Thank you for coming this morning, I hope I didn't pull you away from anything?"

"Nothing I had actually managed to start, at least." Jarvan said, shaking his head.

"How is your dragon friend?" The general said amicably, an easy smile on his face. "I heard there was a bit of a disturbance yesterday at the medical college?"

"Just a misunderstanding with some of my staff." Jarvan said tersely. "I was hoping I'd be able to sort the rest of it out today when I went to see her this morning, but it seems that circumstances are conspiring to keep me apart from her today."

"I'm sorry for that, I truly am." The general said, warding off the prince's frown as he raised a hand. "I had no idea that you had plans this morning, but I needed your help with something."

"My help?" The prince said, blinking a few times, trying and failing to hide his surprise.

The general nodded. "Something we found on our murder victim makes us think that you may have had something to do with the man."

"I was in the area drinking last night while I cleared my head, but that was about it." Jarvan said, frowning as he scratched his cheek, trying to remember what he had done the evening before in the docks. He grimaced: It had mostly been an embarrassing mess of moping and distraught pain. "I more or less wandered into the area, had a drink, and that was when Sergeant Lee found me and offered to escort me home."

"So I heard." The general said, nodding. "Here, have a look at this." He accepted a case from one of his officers and extended it to the prince. Jarvan accepted the box, surprised by how cold the surface of it felt, even through his gloves.

"What is it?" Jarvan said with a frown. The general simply gestured to the box. Jarvan cracked the lid on the box and opened it. Steam poured from the box even in the chilly winter air, as Jarvan looked at the content. There were four narrow rods, about half as long as Jarvan's forearms lain into four of the five slots of the case. One end of the blackish-blue rods had been sharpened to a point, and the opposite ends had been shaped into the three points of an arrow's fletching. "Crossbow bolts?" Jarvan said, taking a wild guess as he looked at the contents of the box. "They look as if they're made of some sort of dark ice..."

"Yep." The general muttered with a tight lipped frown. "The ice is as hard as steel and it's colder than the surrounding air temperature by roughly a hundred degrees." Jarvan blinked a few times and then looked back down at the bolts, surprise on his face. "There's more. You remember the bolt that was removed from your shoulder a week ago, the one you were shot with when you were defending your dragon friend?"

"I do. I had a shard that was still stuck in my body that didn't melt and was somehow poisoning me." Jarvan said, his free hand jumping to his shoulder unconsciously. "Don't tell me this is a match?"

"We haven't been able to compare them yet, but from what I've seen, I'd be willing to bet that they were the same." Jormander gestured to a crossbow and a small quiver of other assorted bolts that a Demsec officer carried past. "We also recovered a number of different bolts and his crossbow, which was folded up under his jacket. We suspect that he was the marksman working with the other soldier that was killed in the break in."

_I suppose this explains what what sergeant Lee was doing here last night. I owe the man an apology._ Jarvan nodded, closing the case and handing it off to one of the Demsec officers. "And he was just drinking in the tavern?" Jarvan said, shaking his head. "I would have thought your surveillance better than that, General."

"It _is_ better than that." The general growled. "However, much of my intelligence efforts have been focused on Noxus and Kalamanda in the past few moments, not towards the city itself. It's unfortunate, but considering how far into the city he made it, I'm not surprised he was hiding in plain sight. But this was not on my men's orders."

"I suppose." Jarvan murmured, shaking his head. "How did he die?" The general motioned for Jarvan to follow him as he moved towards the cluster of officers.

"We've found multiple stab wounds, though his throat was cut for the actual killing blow." The general frowned. "Bent the head forwards and slit it, deep, almost beheaded the bastard. Knife wounds in his right calf from a disabling throw, and then a deep stab wound in the shoulder that looked to disable his arm. He wasn't going anywhere and he wasn't going to be fighting back with wounds like that, brutal, but very professional. Then there are several more stab wounds that were deeper, rapidly inflicted on the body in several place. Very amateurish, driven by anger or passion."

"So we have a hostile marksman who's the victim of both a mugging and a professional hit that wasn't done by your man?" Jarvan said raising an eyebrow.

"They were on strict orders to apprehend the perpetrators, not kill." The general said, shaking his head. "I aim to gather information, Prince, not to bury it. Still, I suspect the killer knew the man, or at least knew what he had done."

"So there's more of them out there?" Jarvan said, surprised. "You're sure it wasn't one of your men?" _It wasn't Lee?_

"While we do indeed teach the neck trick, it prevents the spray of blood, we've trained out men to be decidedly less bloody in their work." Jormander said with a grimace, gesturing to the multiple stab wounds.

"And here I thought you enjoyed the use of violence." Jarvan said, tight lipped.

"It has its uses." The general said, giving Jarvan a snake like smile. "But the killer knew what this man was capable of and what he had done in Demacia. It was violent, as if he had stabbed the man several times after the fact just for the hell of it, like he was taking his anger out on the man." The general's eyes narrowed. "And before you ask, we know it was the same man with the same weapon, because the shape of the wounds all match the same pattern, and there is signs of blood being on the blade as it was used to stab him, fresh, not dried."

"So what do you want with me?" Jarvan said with a frown, raising an eyebrow. The general snapped his fingers and the officers behind him stepped out of the way. Jarvan's jaw dropped.

"Wait a minute, Deadeye?" Jarvan recognized the man instantly, his oily black cloak, though powered with snow, stood out. His skin was a shade of blue as if he had frozen solid, but Jarvan recognized the man's short black Mohawk and the spiderweb of scars that came from one of his eyes. Blood had poured down his face and frozen there, a deep, new wound etched in his skull, as if someone had dug out his ruined eye socket. A knife with a ribbon of colors folded into the blade, with a gentle curve to the blade lay covered in blood in the man's lap. _And another knife! _Jarvan's stomach felt queasy at the sight of the dead man, but the knife cause him to shiver violently. _That is an exact match to the blade that was used to try and kill me in Noxus._

"You knew this man?" The general said, feigning surprise.

"Yes... well... no." Jarvan said, shaking his head, trying to piece together what was going on. "I thought he was a sailor, at least that's what he said last night when I had a drink with him. I chatted with him for a little while before I ran into Lee. I had no idea who he was to be honest."

"And you accepted a drink from him?" Jormander said, incredulously.

"I was in a bar, jam packed with guards and sailors." Jarvan shook his head. "He was a nice enough guy, and offered to buy me a drink and listen to my grievances. We talked for a bit, I drank a mug of coffee and then when he went and got me another Sergeant Lee ran into me, literally, and spilled the second cup of coffee down my front. That was when he disappeared and I left with the sergeant." Jarvan frowned. "We met the sergeant major not but a few blocks from here and the sergeant turned me over. From there we went back to the medical college, and then back to the palace right after."

"I can confirm the last bit, sir." The sergeant major said officiously. "I escorted the Lieutenant Colonel from when we met Sergeant Lee to the medical college. We were promptly turned away by guards and the prince retired for the evening."

"Is that so?" The general mused, frowning slightly. He shook his head, turning to one of the Demsec officers who stood by, waiting for orders. "Captain, take this man into custody for questioning."

"What?" the sergeant major snapped, surprised.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Jormander?" Jarvan snarled as two of the Demsec soldiers stepped forth and grappled Jarvan's arms. They bent his arms behind his back and slapped cuffs on the prince, holding him firmly as Jarvan growled and tried to jerk his arms free.

"Let him go this instance!" Delancey snapped, stepping forth and drawing two vicious looking knives, stepping up behind the guards and putting the knives to their throats.

"Del!" Jarvan snapped.

"Easy does it, now!" General Jormander said, a smile spreading on his face at the sergeant's bold moves. Delancey growled as menacingly as her high pitched voice would allow, the blades still pressed dangerously close to the Demsec officer's throats. "Call off your dog, prince, or your other bitch may end up getting a few visitors later today." His smile did not diminish, but there was no warmth in the gesture. Amusement and a vicious coldness swam in his eyes as he looked at the prince, daring him to let her continue. "It'd be best to cooperate, Prince Jarvan. I didn't want to sink back to threats, but you've forced my hand." He tried to look regretful, but he couldn't pull the smile from his face. Such a defenseless young woman, left all alone... there are dangerous men in this city..."

Jarvan glared at the man with anger burning in his eyes, but as he snarled, the sound died in his throat, his shoulders falling as he sighed. "Del. That's enough."

"But sir!" She protested.

"Del!" Jarvan shouted. "I didn't do anything but have a drink. I don't have anything to hide."

"I'll be the judge of that." Jormander chuckled coldly.


	31. Chapter 30: Grief

"So I heard you got into a fight with Jarvan yesterday." Alicia said, sitting back in the chair, watching as Shyvana messed with her food rather than eating it. Electricity seemed to jolt through the dragoness as she started and looked to Alicia, a frown marring her face. After a few moments, Shyvana nodded somberly and dropped her gaze back down to lap, her shoulders rising and falling in a heavy sigh as she continued to pick at the sandwiches that Alicia had brought for the dragoness. "I knew _something_ had happened, but this doesn't seem like you at all."

"I'm not hungry." Shyvana said with a small voice, though she was promptly interrupted by the sound of her stomach rumbling. Alicia giggled lightly as the dragoness blushed and glanced away from the sandwiches.

"Shyvana, I'm sure that whatever happened between the two of you was only just a little bump. Everything will turn out fine." Alicia said soothingly, brushing a few fingers through her snowy white hair, her china-like pale skin gleaming in the mid morning light as she smiled prettily at the dragoness. Shyvana met her gaze for a few moments, staring into the gunny's red eyes, watching somberly as Alicia's smile faded and she pushed herself to her feet. "I can see how much you've been crying, Shy." Alicia dropped down to sit on the edge of the bed. "Your eyes are red and puffy, and your cheeks are streaked. Your sleeves are stained with tears and are still damp to the touch." Alicia patted the dragoness's hand reasuuringly. "Surely it can't be that bad."

"It was horrible." Shyvana said quietly, her voice strained as she struggled not to break into tears. Her voice was meek and frail, almost raspy from her crying. "I said a lot of things I shouldn't have and I heard some things I wasn't supposed to. It couldn't have been worse!"

"Easy now, Shyvana." Alicia said softly, pulling the dragoness closer and stroking her hair gently as she embraced the young woman. Shyvana's lip quivered for a few moments and she wrapped her arms around the gunny, weeping onto her shoulder. "Go ahead, Shyvana. Take your time, I'm not going anywhere." Several long minutes passed as Shyvana wept and whimpered, leaning heavily on the gunny while the white haired solider cooed and stroked the dragoness's hair quietly, comforting the young woman. Shyvana finally sat up slightly, tears still streaking her cheeks and staining Alicia's shoulders.

"Feel a bit better now?" Alicia asked gently, holding Shyvana at half arms length, sitting next to her. The dragoness shook her head ruefully but there was a thin smile on her face as Alicia smiled broadly. "Come on now, it's not going to do anyone any good if you don't eat. Delancey told me you should be eating plenty, and I don't think even Jarvan, no matter how big an ass he's being right now, wouldn't want you to eat."

"Alright." Shyvana nodded weakly, looking up to Alicia sheepishly.

"Good." Alicia said, laughing as Shyvana's stomach rumbled again, the dragoness blushing a slightly darker shade of red. "Come now, eat, eat, and you can tell me about your woes and I can tell you how best to capture the heart of your prince charming." Shyvana accepted the package from Alicia, laying the array of colorful papers out in her lap. Shyvana unwrapped a sandwich, sniffing at the light-colored meat and dark bread, finally tearing into the sandwich ravenously. Alicia laughed aloud. "Now that's more like the Shyvana I know."

The first sandwich disappeared in a matter of seconds, and the second didn't last much longer. Alicia, wearing an impressed smile, poured a glass of water for the dragoness from a pitcher that had been provided on the side table, one of the few things that had escaped the wrath of Delancey and Forsythe's battle. The dragoness accepted the cup and then downed it in a single go, sighing heavily as she hunched over, struggling to catch her breath from the food and drink she had just inhaled.

"That was tasty..." Shyvana murmured softly, a content look on her face as her breathing slowed. Her shoulder rose and fell in a happy sigh and she laid back, letting the colored paper roll of of her bed and hit the floor.

"Feeling a bit better now?" Alicia asked with a smirk, eying Shyvana as the dragoness laid back and closed her eyes, nodding her head happily. "Good. Now speak. It doesn't do you any good to hold it in."

"I know..." Shyvana looked down at her lap glumly, a frown creasing her face. "I just... It all happened so fast, feeling were on edge..."

"It doesn't matter how it happened if it hurts you." Alicia said, leaning forward and watching the dragoness's face with a frown. "If you don't understand what happened, there's all the more reason for you to talk to me about. Now spill it. What the hell happened? Maybe you can start by explaining what the hell happened in here. It looks like a tornado swept through here."

"That would be thanks to Sergeant Delancey and Corporal Forsythe." Shyvana said, shrugging with some effort. "I don't know how it started because I was asleep at the time, but their fighting ended up waking me up. I was cross and tired so I got up and threw them at the wall... I think." Shyvana blushed slightly and glanced at her lap, tapping the tips of her fingers together. "I managed to reopen my wound because of it and passed out due to the blood loss and lightheadedness."

"You _tossed_ them?" Alicia said, raising an eyebrow. "I still have a limp from the accident and they worked me over with health potions and what not. I'm surprised you were even able to stand."

"I shouldn't have." Shyvana said, shaking her head. "It put me back out of action for the better part of that morning and into the afternoon when a doctor treated my reopened wound." Shyvana tugged the the blanket down and pulling the gown up to look at the patch of cloth swathing and gauze that covered most of the wound. She tugged the bandages aside gently and looked at the site of the wound that started just below her waistline and ran up most of her side.

"Wait you reopened that yesterday?" Alicia said blinking. "I thought that health potions didn't work on you?"

"They don't." Shyvana frowned. "Well the doctor said they weren't working as they should. They may have done something for it..."

"That wound looks weeks old..." Alicia said, leaning forward. She reached out towards the pink scar, the flesh held together with thread still. "Not less than a day." Alicia glared at Shyvana with a frown. "How the hell does that work? Are you sure the health potions aren't doing anything?"

"They stopped giving them to me." Shyvana said, shaking her head. She started to turn but a tug on her arm reminded her of what she was connected to. "They hooked me up to this thing and told me to eat a bunch, but I haven't been hungry..." Alicia snorted and glared at Shyvana. "Okay, well I haven't had much of an appetite with my stomach feeling so mixed up after what happened yesterday that I've been worried about keeping food down."

"You still haven't told me what happened that caused all this." Alicia said, frowning. She leaned back on the bed, though she still watched Shyvana thoughtfully.

"It's a long story..." Shyvana said, glancing away.

"I have time." Alicia said, an expectant look on her face. "Get it off your chest, Shyvana."

"Well, when I came to, the new doctor was already here and Jarvan was really agitated." Shyvana said with a frown. "I wasn't sure what was going on, but my side hurt, Jarvan was angry and the new doctor started to look me over without really paying much attention to him. She was kind and gentle and we started talking as she attended to me, trying to make sure I wasn't in pain or suffering from the restitching of the wound and the blood loss, or something about the piece of metal that had gotten stuck in my side."

"Why was the prince agitated?" Alicia said with a frown. "He's always been a bit headstrong, but not out right agitated... usually. And I can't see him taking it out on you, even if he was angry at something."

"I don't know why, but he wasn't angry at me first." Shyvana said, shaking her head. She paused mid shake and then frowned, her eyes falling and her shoulder slumping as she looked to her lap, again, tapping the tips of her fingers together to distract herself. "Well... I had overheard a little of what Jarvan was saying before I woke up. The pain had awaken me though not fully, so I wasn't quite sure if I had heard him right, but he was talking to himself."

"The prince has been known to do that from time to time." Alicia said with a smirk, though the smile died quickly when she saw Shyvana's worried look. "Sorry. Go on."

"He spoke of how I had become a burden that was weighing heavily upon his shoulders, and how he had to deal with all of his problems as well as my own." Shyvana twiddled her thumbs in her lap as she spoke. "He was questioning whether there was actually hope for our future together. He sounded pained, as if he was growing tired of me. He sounded stressed by the fact that he didn't know when he would get to see me. He was angry, June... he was really angry." Shyvana shook here head and Alicia saw several tears drop from her eyes to the blanket. "I didn't think I had done anything wrong, but I never realized that my very presence was so stressful to him. Everything I do just causes him trouble, and I never realized that. He seemed physically pained by that. And he was angry at his father too. He kept yelling about his father."

"Slow down, Shy." Alicia said soothingly. "You may have just imagined half of that, it doesn't sound like you were even fully awake at the time. Jarvan would never knowingly hurt someone he cared about. If you did nothing wrong then you have nothing to worry about, girl. Jarvan isn't perfect by any means, he never has been. He may be a bit of thick-headed idiot, but he's not one to simply lash out a someone unless he has a reason."

"I know..." Shyvana murmured, her voice strained as she tried to hold the tears back. "But I know what I heard... some of it... It hurts, June. Why does it hurt so much?"

Alicia sighed gave Shyvana a shoulder to cry on. Shyvana sniffed a few times and accepted a hug from the gunny, but luckily she managed to hold it together and didn't break into sobs again. "Words can often cut deeper than steel or wood. And often, those who don't often wield their words to hurt or harm don't know just how much damage can be done by the spoken word. But they live, learn and fix their mistakes." She patted the dragoness gently on the shoulder. "I don't think Jarvan knows how much he's hurt you. Chances are his words are hurting him just as much. He's always been one to look back and realize he screwed up rather than thinking ahead and trying to prevent something from happening. It's kinda just his style." She chuckled briefly as she swiped a few tear drenched locks of ruby red hair from Shyvana's face. "Just give him a little to figure it out and he'll be back here to fix everything he said. Did anything else happen?"

The dragoness nodded again. "The doctor's very presence seemed to anger Jarvan. He didn't want her there, but I haven't had anyone to talk to about my father in so long and she seemed to know about dragons, so I started talking to her. She was nice. Pretty with golden hair and blue eyes. She seemed warm, kind of like my father. Jarvan stopped us from talking after a while; he had been pacing back and forth. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't mean to make it worse."

"You can't know if you did, Shyvana." Alicia said softly, comforting the dragoness. "Jarvan may be the prince, but he's not infallible. He's only as human as the rest of us... Okay, maybe a bit more human than you, but what can you do about that?" She winked at the dragoness and Shyvana giggled, blushing slightly. "That does sound like Jarvan when he was agitated though. He has a habit of pacing when he doesn't know what to do. I believe the saying goes 'better to ask forgiveness than ask permission?' That's basically Jarvan in a nutshell. He's also pretty quick to go off, bit of a hair trigger, that one." Shyvana blushed furiously and looked to Alicia, aghast. Alicia looked at her with confusion for a few seconds, but she realized what Shyvana must have thought she had meant. Alicia blushed and burst out laughing as Shyvana stared at her in disbelief. "Not like that. Not at all like that. His temper. He's got a bit of a temper." Shyvana frowned slightly but she look a deep breath and calmed herself.

"I know, but I could feel it in the air, I could see it in his face. Something had truly disturbed him." Shyvana said, shaking her head.

"And you have no idea what could have caused it?" Alicia said with a frown.

"I don't know, but things didn't get any better after that." Shyvana said somberly. "They talked about my wound for a few minutes but I could only follow parts of it. The doctor brought up the old scars she had found underneath the new one, the three from Kampf, and Jarvan mentioned the doctor who had taught him most of his medical knowledge because he had sown the scars up when we first met."

"Doctor Fenrush." Alicia said, nodding as if she knew the man.

Shyvana nodded, casting the white haired gunny a curious glance. "How did you know?"

"I'll explain later." She said quietly, gesturing for Shyvana to continue.

"Okay." Shyvana said softly, frowning as she tried to figure out where she had been in her story. "When that came up, Jarvan just seemed to go off. He expected her to blame him for the doctors death, and Jarvan seemed distraught and angry about the fact that she wasn't. That's when the shouting started." Shyvana shook her head as if she didn't want to remember a bad memory. "There were accusations and angered words flying around, something about Jormander, and a woman named Jesarah, and then they just kept shouting at each other. They started yelling about marriage! They're engaged, June!" Tears were now falling fast down Shyvana face as she looked to Alicia, desperate for answers. "She and Jarvan kept yelling and then she slapped him and then more yelling and then she left and Jarvan started yelling at everyone else. I started yelling back because I was tired and hungry and my side hurt and I just wanted to sleep. I responded with anger because Jarvan was angry and then I said I should just leave..."

"Shyvana..." Alicia murmured, trying to gently stop her.

"He yelled back that he should just go ahead and marry her..." Shyvana sobbed, tears running down her face. "June... what should I do?"

"Easy, girl, easy." Alicia said, enfolding the dragoness in another hug until she had stop crying, reverting to just gentle whimpers. Alicia pulled a box of tissues from some of the mess on the floor and then tugged a few of tissues from the top, tossing them away and then holding the box out to Shyvana. The dragoness whimpered as sound that sounded like a weak 'thank you' and then dabbed out her eyes. She pulled a few more from the box and then blew her nose, the tissues come back singed and smoking as Shyvana threw them into the small trash can next to the bed.

"He was really angry and yelling a lot about his father." Shyvana said shaking her head slightly. "That made me kind of angry because, well..."

"It's okay." Alicia said, patting her head so the dragoness didn't have to say it aloud. "We say things we don't mean sometimes. I'm sure you were just missing your father and seeing him so mad at his frustrated you. It's natural to miss out family when they're gone." Alicia sighed, sitting back as she patted Shyvana's knee through the blanket. "Jarvan and his father have never gotten along very well, unfortunately. Jarvan was raised by his caretaker and his grandfather mostly, after Jarvan II passed the throne off to his son. Lady Catherine was a noblewoman herself, so she and Jarvan III were heavily invested in trying to unify the threat of a divergent legislation. It was sad, but to Jarvan, his Grandfather acted as his father and his caretaker, Noel, was his mother. He saw his parents in the evening at dinner, but that was often it. Barely forty minutes of them arguing and discussing the legislation of the day. I doubt he's ever held his father in as fond a memory as the memories you hold of your father."

"That's... horrifying... I never realized..." Fond memories of time shared with her father flashed through her mind, and Shyvana immediately felt a pang of loss as tears welled in her eyes. "I suppose I never really realized just how hard Jarvan had it."

Alicia nodded slowly. "Things changed not long after Jarvan turned thirteen. An attempt was made upon his life, by the man who ended up robbing Jarvan of his company of men almost ten years later."

"You mean Swain tried to kill Jarvan?" Shyvana said, her eyes flying open in shock.

"He ended up killing several guards, but the prince escaped with his life." Alicia sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Lady Catherine took this as a sign and removed herself from much of the workings of the government, deciding that she needed to spend more time with her son who had so nearly been took from her. The king took over her duties and spent more and more time working. He probably felt the same way as his wife, but he channeled that through his work and his political prowess, doing all that he could to prevent another attempt on his sons life, but at the time, I doubt Jarvan could see that. Jarvan tried endlessly to impress his father, from setting new records at the academy to becoming the youngest captain in he history of Demacia to be given command of his own company of infantry. Jarvan III was too busy working to keep Valoran from descending into war. Noxus and Ionia started a conflict, Zaun was constantly pressuring the other nations and the Freljord was a disaster of different political problems and conflicts constantly threatening to embroil the rest of Valoran."

"What happened to Jarvan and his father though?" Shyvana asked nervously.

"You know most of the rest of the story." Alicia said sadly. "He saw an opportunity to try and defeat Swain, the 'M_aster Tactician',_ and it backfired."

"I never knew..." Shyvana said weakly, shaking her head as she looked to her lap, tears dripping down her face. "My father and I had a hard life, but we were happy when we shared the seldom few quiet moments we had together. We were hounded back and forth across Valoran, but I was never wanting for anything, my father always did his best to see to it that I was happy. Towards the end I had grown angry at him for what happened to me, but without him... I don't know what I would have ever done... I... I felt so ashamed and seeing Jarvan act the same way made me mad..." Shyvana broke down into tears again and Alicia hugged her close, letting her cry onto her shoulder.

"I know this hasn't been easy for you to hear, but I don't want you to think that Jarvan does not care for you." Alicia said, shaking her head. "He may be rough around the edges and he may be a colossal, _COLOSSAL_ moron at times, but he has a good heart. Not that you shouldn't knock him out the next time you see him, but punch him and then kiss him as soon as he apologizes for being a completely and utter ass."

Shyvana giggled softly, forming a fist in her lap, cupping it in her other hand. "I'll try that."

"I know this hasn't been easy on either of you, these past few months, but I know that even if it seems bad now, things can only get better." Alicia gave Shyvana a brave smile and got a weak smile in return, though it faltered.

"But what about that woman?" Shyvana stammered nervously. "They're supposedly engaged..."

"From what little I know, it sounds as if Jarvan didn't know about it until recently and it may have been instigated by his father." Alicia said frowning.

"Oh..." Shyvana said, her spirits falling again. "How do we stop it?"

Alicia laughed aloud. "Well we either wait for Jarvan and the king to sort it out, or we try and do something about it. But from the sound of things, I don't think getting into a bunch of trouble to try and cancel their engagement is going to further your cause any, either. If you want, you can always just become his mistress..."

"Mistress?" Shyvana said, blushing slightly.

"Yeah." Alicia said, grinning. "You let him get married and let the political bullshit flow, and on the outside, Jarvan and the woman are together, but in reality you know his heart belongs to you. You play the part of the devoted bodyguard, protecting the prince and his family as you're supposed to. You get to polish his lance and you get showered with love and gifts and everything else without being being in the limelight. Sadly, I think I might be a bit late for that, most people seem to already know about the two of you." Shyvana blushed at Alicia's joke about the prince's _weapon_, but she shook her head and glared at Alicia for several moments.

"I don't think I like that idea." Shyvana said, crossing her arms over her chest and puffing her cheek out with a dejecting frown. Shyvana caught herself as she started to move her hand over her stomach, blushing slightly and making it look as if she were messing with the blanket, but Alicia had seen the gesture. "I don't want to share."

"Is that jealousy I hear?" Alicia said, raising an eyebrow.

Shyvana blushed. "So?"

"It's not a bad thing." Alicia said, chuckling. "Jealously is normal to anyone who's in love. I just think you need to give Jarvan a bit more credit. If you were right about how angry he was... well, I don't think you need to worry about sharing any part of him." Shyvana blushed furiously again and Alicia sighed and glared at the dragoness until she calmed herself. Alicia sat back slightly and shook her head, wearing a smirk. "Your mind seems to be set on a certain part of Jarvan this evening, huh? Maybe I should go find you a polishing rag?"

"No, thank you." Shyvana said, her cheeks tinged pink, frowning slightly as she avoided Alicia's gaze. "June, can I ask you a question?"

The gunny looked surprised but nodded. "Of course. I have a bit of knowledge as far as good polis-.."

"Not that!" Shyvana barked angrily and glanced down to her lap. "How do you know so much about Jarvan? If you two used to be something to each other..."

"W-w-what?" Alicia stammered, sitting bolt upright, her face blushed. "No! No of course not! We were at the academy at the same time and were just friends, that's it. It's kind of a boring story." She looked to Shyvana and sighed again, rolling her eyes. "You're curious though, I can see it in your face."

Shyvana nodded and grinned sheepishly.

"Fine, fine." Alicia said sinking back and looking up at the ceiling. "First though, a bit of background. Vorscham and I go way back. We were friends as kids, nearly inseparable because my father and Vorscham's parents were close. Vorshcam and I both ended up at the academy and Vorscham quickly became my father's protege. We both trained endlessly, but Vorscham was a much better fighter than I was and he quickly garnered the interest of another solider who was fast tracked on the officers curriculum. He was supposedly going to have a company of his own in only a few years. Vorscham was strong, fast, and he was a natural leader. He would of made a perfect squad or platoon leader and this soldier could see it."

"Who was the other soldier?" Shyvana asked quietly.

"Jarvan." Alicia said with a grin. "It wasn't long before Jarvan, Garen and Proudmast were inseparable. They were the best of friends. I got to tag along because I was good friends with Proudmast and my father was one of the instructors and Jarvan and Garen thought they'd actually get away with more of their usual goofing about and pranks." She read the frown on Shyvana face and nodded. "He and Garen were constantly getting into trouble, over and over and Proudmast was constantly trying to keep them out of trouble. Despite their amazing grades and their martial prowess, they were easily distracted. Vorscham had his work cut out for him. Well, Jarvan and Garen were friends that went back just as far as Vorscham and I and they constantly chided each other about everything. Nothing was out of bounds when it came to insults between them. They never shut up for that matter. They would fight and then be the best of friends, and then fight some more. From those years of Vorscham hanging out with them, I don't think there's much I don't know about Jarvan. But that was many years ago."

"Vorscham was in Jarvan's company?" Shyvana said, frowning, slightly. "I suppose that explains some things. But then why didn't he..."

"Vorscham never actually joined Jarvan's company." Alicia said, her shoulders tightening and a frown lingering on her face. "Something happened, but that's all just a bad memory now." She offered Shyvana a pained smile that betrayed the fact that there was something much worse just below the surface. Shyvana started to ask what had happened, but she worked her jaw for a second and then shook her head and clicked her jaw shut. Alicia sighed, leaning back and stretching her arms over her head. "But that's all old news, now. If only there were some way we could get you closer to the prince on a regular basis."

"That's it!" Shyvana shouted, taking Alicia by surprise. The snowy-haired gunnery sergeant tumbled off the bed, hitting the ground in a heap. She started to pick herself up, looking at Shyvana with surprise clear on her face.

"What's _'it'?"_ Alicia spluttered, blinking the pain she felt in her rump away.

"It was something Jarvan said." She frowned, thinking back. "Apparently, the king said that if I managed to defeat Xin Zhao, I would be assigned to Jarvan as his bodyguard!" She smiled excitedly, but the smile faltered as Alicia grimaced. "What's wrong?"

"Xin Zhao is one of the strongest soldiers in all of Demacia." She shook her head, perching herself on the edge of Shyvana's bed, glowered as she perched her chin on her interlaced hands, resting her elbows on her knees. "There's a reason he is the king's personal bodyguard. He, Garen Crownguard, and Jarvan are probably the three strongest warriors in all of Demacia. Defeating Xin Zhao is no small task, Shyvana."

"I beat Jarvan once before, and I beat Garen as well." Shyvana said, grinning cheekily, though Alicia didn't share her enthusiasm.

"I doubt the prince was giving it his all. He probably didn't want to hurt you." Alicia frowned. "And the only reason you defeated Garen was because you surprised him with your dragon form."

"So I'll just transform again and beat him." Shyvana said, confidently. "Easy."

"Beating Xin Zhao isn't the only point of this fight though." Alicia said, shaking her head. "You need to defeat him, but it's not just about victory, it's about your desire to win and your dedication. Besides, Xin Zhao is a seasoned warrior with decades and decades of experience fighting. Nothing you can do will surprise him, and honestly Shyvana, you were easily defeated by the LT not but a month ago."

"But I've been training so hard and I've learned so much..." Shyvana protested, but the stern look from Alicia quelled her complaints.

"If you're dead set on trying to fight him, I won't stop you... I just want you to know that you are likely to lose." Alicia said, a thin frown resting on her lips.

"I have to win though! I... I..." Her voice faded and she fell silent, blushing as she stared at the ground. Her head came up. "I love Jarvan and I refuse to lose to that blonde witch!"

A thin, crooked grin had wormed its way onto Alicia face, though she tried to harden it into a scowl she couldn't remove the smile. "I like the enthusiasm... just... be careful about what you're getting into."

"I know, I know..." Shyvana said, nodding, sighing softly. "If only it weren't for this infernal wound."

"And what are you going to do about Jarvan in the meantime?" Alicia said, crossing her arms over her chest. She frowned slightly. "Where is he, anyways? It's not like him to let something like this lie..."

Shyvana's face fell. "I don't know. I was hoping he would show up today because I'm not allowed to leave, but... I don't know." Alicia patted her knee gently.

"I'm sure he'll be here soon." Alicia said, though there was a hint of doubt in her voice. At that very moment the door cracked at the far end of the hall, the new doors squeaking loudly as they swung inwards. "Speaking of the devil, I bet that's him now!" She gave Shyvana a hopeful smile, and the dragoness blushed furiously but wore a smile. Alicia got to her feet, preparing to salute.

Delancey growled, clenching her fists at her side as she rounded the corner, a scowl on her face. She snapped off a quick salute to Alicia before she shook her head and plopped down on the bed, running her hands over her face.

"Damn him!" She hissed angrily.

Shyvana and Alicia glanced at each other, Shyvana leaning forwards, worry on her face. "Del, where's Jarvan? What happened?"

"Sergeant." Alicia said stiffly, failing to hide her surprise. "I thought you were with the prince?"

"I was until that asshole Jormander arrested him and took him into custody!" Delancey scowled, anger flaring on her face. "Bastard has been holding Jarvan all of last night and all of this morning. He finally kicked me out and told me to scram, but he's still holding the prince!"

"What?" Shyvana practically shouted. Anger and worry contorted her face as she glared at the sergeant. "Del, what happened?"

"It's a long story." Delancey grumbled, running her hands over her face and scowling. "I was called yesterday morning to go and fetch the prince, right?"

"That's why you called me." Alicia said, nodding, indicating that she was following. Shyvana remained silent, though her frown was growing on her face.

"Right. The sergeant major said something had come up." She shook her head and sighed angrily. "Well, low and behold I was ordered to fetch the prince and take him down to the docks via carriage. We got there and something major is going down. Turns out, night before last, Jarvan had been drinking with the man who had shot him in the shoulder and he didn't even know it!" Shyvana blanked and Alicia's eyes grew wide. "The man turns up dead and right now, Jarvan is their biggest suspect!"

"Wait, wait, Jarvan was down drinking at the docks?" Shyvana said, blinking a few times, surprised. "He was here only earlier that evening..."

"I know, I know..." Delancey said, shaking her head. "Apparently someone knew where to point the sergeant major and he ended up running into the prince who was being escorted back to the palace by Lee. Sergeant Lee went back to get something and now he's missing, the marksman is dead and Jarvan is caught up in the middle of all of it."

"You're kidding..." Alicia said, deadpan, a look of disbelief on her face. Delancey shook her head.

"And with Lee missing, the only person who can corroborate the prince's story, Jarvan is being held as the principle murder suspect."

"But wait..." Shyvana said, shaking her head. "Wasn't this the man who shot Jarvan in the shoulder and killed another man shortly after? Why is it even a murder?"

"That's what I was saying." Delancey snarled in disgust, a cross look on her face. "But _noooo _Jormander is being a massive jerk and holding Jarvan until they prove that the dead guy was the shooter or Lee turns up to prove that Jarvan didn't murder the guy." She shook her head, but anger flared through her voice. "I could just strangle that cowardly bastard!"

"Who, Jormander?" Alicia said, raising a eyebrow.

"Who's Jormander?" Shyvana said, frowning.

"He's the commander of Demsec." Delancey said, shaking her head. "He's the jerkoff who is trying to threaten Jarvan into submission by threatening you. He's also really, really powerful. Powerful enough that Jarvan can't do shit against him, and even General Lorcan's hands are tied!"

"Jormander is the Commandant of the Demacian Security Brigade." Alicia said seriously, expanding upon what Delancey had said before. "He's a well known and utterly ruthless psychopath who is extremely good at what he does, and is willing to do pretty much anything to maintain both the status quo and his position. He is exceedingly nationalistic, but it is nationalism that is carried almost to far. He knows his shit, but he's completely insane."

Delancey nodded and frowned. "Jarvan will be pissed at me for telling you this, but Jormander threatened to have you raped or killed while you were in the hospital if the prince didn't cooperate and behave himself. That's why there's been one of us here the entire time."

"I didn't realize..." Shyvana said looking to her lap. So t_hat's why Jarvan was so angry. He said I was becoming a burden... it wasn't me though, it was the fact that I couldn't defend myself and I was being used as leverage against him._

"He was planning on coming to visit early yesterday morning according to the sergeant major." Delancey said, glancing at Shyvana. "Jarvan wanted me to let you know that he's thinking about you and that he's sorry he couldn't apologize sooner."

"That... that idiot!" Shyvana shouted, taking both Delancey and Alicia by surprise, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"What?" The two women stammered, glancing at each other, confusion on their faces.

"He's in a situation like this and he's still doing nothing but thinking about me!" She shook her head, tears getting sent flying left and right as she sighed heavily. "That loud mouthed, block headed... bighearted... idiot." Her voice trailed off as tears ran down her face. Alicia offered her the tissues again, a smile on face.

Shyvana accepted a tissue and blew her nose. _I'll beat Xin Zhao and then you won't have to worry about me at all, Jarvan. _She accepted another tissue from Alicia and used it to dry her eyes. _Wait for me, Jarvan. _

_I know what I must do._


	32. Chapter 31: Challenge

Jarvan blinked himself awake and looked around, grimacing in the dark, dank light of the prison cell. He sat up on the thin mattress of the provided bunk, his back and knees protesting as he hunched over the edge of the bunk. He ran a hand along his jaw, shaking his head and glowering as he ran a hand over his face. _Two more days of stubble on my face. _Jarvan had shaved the first morning when he had originally intended to go see Shyvana, making sure he had cleaned himself up to apologize to the dragoness. It had been his hope that she would let him make amends and if need be he would have begged her not to hate him for being a jerk as he explained things to her.

_That was two days ago, if my sense of time is remotely accurate. _Jarvan pushed himself to his feet and and stretched out the kinks in his back and neck that the mattress's pitiful springs had inflicted upon his body. Delancey had been allowed to wait outside his cell and walk with him in between interrogation sessions and bouts of sitting in his cell, but she had been whisked away, rather, threatened into leaving the day before by Jormander's goons. She had tried to threaten the general back but a quick mention of the possibility of treason had scared her off. The sergeant major had quickly gone to seek council from General Lorcan the first day, but Jarvan hadn't heard anything from the sergeant major or even from General Lorcan or his men, so the prince could only assume that they were being stonewalled by the Demsec security protocols and the general asinine reasons until he could find out what he wanted to know from Jarvan.

The questioning had started off fairly routinely, mostly standardized questions about Jarvan and the day before, leading up to his capture. The officer who had been doing the questioning had been intrigued as to why exactly Jarvan had been wandering around the city without his guard and without anyone knowing where he was.

Jarvan had explained that he was simply taking a walk and had gotten separated from his guard. The officer didn't seem surprised or questioning of the obviously false answer, simply moving onwards to the next question. Questions about how Jarvan had come to be drinking with the man, who the man was, who he said he was, what Jarvan had done afterward and questions about how he had run into Sergeant Lee had also be brought up, along with numerous other things. Jarvan had poised questions about why exactly the sergeant had been tailing him, but none of the prince's questions got answered despite his protests. Jarvan tried to explain what had happened, but with the standing problem that Jarvan didn't exactly know what had happened, his explanations turned into a mix of drivel and pointless conjecture.

They had tossed him into the cell and locked him up after they were done questioning him. At this point the sergeant major had gone for help, but Jarvan wasn't exactly optimistic. He had awoken the next day after a night of poor sleep feeling cranky and agitated. He was given nothing to eat and taken directly to questioning. The officer had turned the tables this time, snarling and fussing and screaming at Jarvan about the answers he had given the day before, throwing facts they had found out from various different 'witnesses' at the prince, trying to catch him off guard. But Jarvan was adamant and had provided truthful information. Even under stress, feeling tired and hungry, the prince's answers remained the same. Delancey had been chased off after this, and though she was apocalyptic in her shouting and threats towards the soldiers, she was eventually chased off under threat of impeding a federal investigation and treason, both of which could carry a death sentence if the charge was severe enough.

Jarvan took a deep breath and dropped to the ground, catching himself with his hands and lowering himself to the floor. His abdomen still burned and bruises cried out in pain, but with nothing better to do, Jarvan began to pushing himself upwards in a jerking motion, bringing his hands together in a clap with each exertion.

_It will take a lot more than that to break my body, Jormander._ Bruises dotted Jarvan's abdomen up and down, covering his stomach from where guards had tried to beat the prince senseless. When he hadn't been able to get the answers he had desired, Jormander pushed his men to drastic measures. While the soldiers had seemed hesitant at first to actually strike the prince, Jarvan's anger at the general and his underhanded thuggery was enough to cause the men to lash out. Jarvan paused, his chest now burning against the continuous motions of the push ups, a grin spreading over his face. The guards had stripped the prince down to his trousers and his boots, and many of them had simply stared at the prince's array of scars for several long moments. A captain finally had to snap the men out of it, their hesitation still evident. Jarvan had taken the chance and goaded the men into finally trying to hurt the him, questioning their masculinity, insulting their honor, and finally the first soldier had snapped when Jarvan had made mention of how Noxian women were better interrogators with just their lips while on their knees. The man had reared his hand back for a vicious underhanded strike to Jarvan abdomen, but the prince had expected it. He sucked in a sharp breath and flexed his muscles as the man's hand struck.

_I think he managed to break his wrist and everything._ Jarvan chuckled to himself and resumed his pushups. _He did leave a decent bruise though._

The other men, compelled by their officers and the prince's confidence had lain into him with kicks and punches designed to wear down the prince's body, but after nearly two hours, the men had been left panting and exhausted while the prince breathed calmly, shaking his head in disappointment. This had sent Jormander into a fury. The man had descended upon the interrogation room fuming and yowling like he had been personally wronged. He had spat and threatened and snarled and bitched, but Jarvan's story remained the same. He hadn't killed the marksman. Jormander had Jarvan tossed back into the cell and locked back up, and there the prince stayed for the rest of the day until he had fallen asleep on the uncomfortable mattress. Jarvan rolled onto his back and started to do sit ups, but his stomach and abdomen screamed in protest.

"I suppose those bastards did manage to do a bit of damage to me after all." Jarvan grumbled, laying out flat as he breath heavily. He decided against sit ups and continued through what steady exercise he could to distract his mind and keep his body moving. He may have been ravenously hungry, but his body was not taking kindly to having been forced to stay motionless for so long over the last two days. The most exercise he had received was from walking from cell to interrogation room and he was getting anxious.

Jarvan lay out on the floor of the cell, his back against the cold stone, breathing deeply. He closed his eyes for a few moments. The image of Deadeye, slumped over, stabbed over and over with another matching dagger in his lap was enough to send goosebumps running up and down Jarvan's body. _That same design yet again. Constantin is definitely producing more knives, or he sold a lot of them to this killer. _Jarvan grunted as he rolled over and got into position to start another set of exercises. _I need to figure out why he's making them and who they're going to. They're just taunting me now._ Jarvan growled and shook his head, letting himself get adsorbed in his exercise, trying not the think about the weapon. It only made him restless.

A pounding resounded on the heavy wood and steel door. "Rise and shine, princess!"

"What do you want?" Jarvan shouted in between grunts.

"Step away from the door!" The guard shouted.

"Look through the damn window, moron, I'm nowhere near the door!" Jarvan shouted back. The thin wooden slot opened and shut again quickly, followed by the sound of a key scraping against the lock and turning in the bolt. Jarvan watched as the man walked in on what appeared to be the ceiling as he pushed himself up again with a grunt of exertion.

"I'm surprised you can even move after the beating we gave you yesterday." The soldier said a mildly impressed frown as Jarvan pushed himself up again, his hair hanging above the ground, his legs back against the wall. Jarvan lowered himself, his arms shaking slightly as the top of his head came within an inch of the ground. He pushed himself up with a grunt, holding himself up like that as he looked at the ground.

"What do you want?" Jarvan huffed, dropping and pushing up again, the entire weight of his body on his arms.

"Jormander says you're to be released to the custody of the Royal Guard." The guard growled angrily. "He also says that you're being dropped from the list of suspects and have been acquitted of all charges. So cut that out and get up."

"And I was just getting into my groove, too." Jarvan said, kicking off the wall and twisting his body about. He landed on his feet, his abdomen screaming in protest, but Jarvan didn't let it show. He walked straight past the soldier and stepped out of the cell, raising his arms above his head in a full body stretch.

"Apologies on the delay, sir." A gruff voice announced.

"I figured it was just a matter of time, sergeant major." Jarvan responded, as he twisted his neck from side to side, a loud popping sound coming from the prince.

"Those scars..." The sergeant major started to stammer, but Jarvan waved the man aside and shook his head.

"These are from a time long past." Jarvan said, pausing before the sergeant major as the soldier saluted. "The bruises however, are fresh." Jarvan muttered under his breath after he dropped his salute and glanced over his shoulder. The sergeant major handed over a fresh shirt and a pair of boots, which Jarvan slipped on with some effort. He had to fiddle with the bootstrap for a moment, but he managed to get it on without losing too much of his dignity. "Thank you, sergeant major." Jarvan said, settling the shirt over his shoulders as he stood up straight.

"Of course, sir." The sergeant major said, bowing. "They come with tidings of good health from Miss Noel." He dragged the word 'miss' out in a bit of a drawl.

"I'll have to get her a thank you present." Jarvan said with a grin, casting the sergeant major a sideways glance, which the officer ignored. Demsec personnel stood by, whispering among themselves until a officer with captain's rank tabs on his collar and a Demsec patch on his shoulder approached, saluted and gestured that Jarvan and the sergeant major follow. The prince nodded tersely, his jaw set as he followed along. The sergeant major followed beside Jarvan, his hand resting on his weapon. "I thought Demsec confiscated weapons before admitting entry to visitors?" The prince eyed the weapon with a curious gaze.

"I don't think you could call me a visitor." The sergeant major let a thin grin slip past his usually dreary mug as he glanced at Jarvan. "More like a unwelcome guest." The captain who was guiding them beckoned the sergeant major and the prince into the large, main working room of the Demsec command center. Jarvan glanced up and to his right to where the commander's office was and noticed with a huge amount of satisfaction that General Jormander was scowling, slumped on the railing that bordered the steps up to his office.

"Good morning, General." Jarvan said brightly, just a bit of cheekiness to be heard in his voice. The general shot him a poisonous look, but remained silent. Jarvan glanced back to the sergeant major with a grin growing on his face. "What's got him in such a good mood?" The sergeant major simply pointed forward to where an older gentlemen stood leaning on a cane as he peered around the room. Next to him stood an aged but sharply cut gentleman with a short trimmed white beard, only the faintest remnants of a deep brown showing in his now silver hair. He was flanked by a number of heavily armed and armored guards that looked none too welcome amid the Demsec personnel, and not exactly happy to be here either. They wore full combat armor, and their hands rested uneasily on their weapons as they looked around, watching for threats. Jarvan's grin grew even wider.

"Good morning, my young prince." General Holven Lorcan announced in a grand fashion. Though significantly shorted, his spectacles sparkled happily as he bowed his head in greeting to the prince. "And fair ye well this chilly morn?" His voice was a singsong tone that Jarvan believed was aimed at pissing off General Jormander. A quick glance over his shoulder told him that it was working.

"No worse for wear, general." Jarvan said, snapping to attention and saluting crisply despite the lack of uniform.

"I hope they didn't treat you unfairly down here, son." General Lorcan said, shooting a thin grin in the direction of General Jormander. Jarvan halfway turned to he could see the general without straining his neck, and gave the general a cold but pleasant smile.

"Not at all." Jarvan said, a bit of menace in his voice to let Jormander know that he didn't intend to try and throw him under the bus. _As much as I wish to see you rotting in a prison cell, you have an ace and I don't even know what hand of cards I've been dealt. _"Jormander was simply doing his duty and following through on a criminal investigation."

"I'm glad to hear it." The general said, cackling a bit too loud as the general's companion, slightly taller, though barely coming up above Jarvan's shoulder, stepped forth and extended his hand towards the prince.

"I'm glad to see my trust in Sergeant Major Perrywinkle was not misplaced." Haywood Spiritmight mused softly, his long graying-brown hair neatly kept, his sharp gray eyes glancing around the room. They settled on Jarvan and a smile spread over his face as the man took Jarvan's hand and pulled the prince into a hug. Jarvan reciprocated the hug, holding it for several seconds before stepping back and saluting the councilor properly. Though he was not military now, he had served with distinction, and it was not something that Jarvan wished to overlook. "He is taking care of you well?"

"He's pulled my ass out of the fire a few times already, grandfather." Jarvan said with a wry grin. "I take it this is your doing?" Jarvan said, glancing at the knights, who stood imposingly tall, even next to Jarvan. The elderly man's eyes twinkled as his grin grew wider.

"It took a little convincing, but when the sergeant major approached me asking for help, I couldn't say no." He nodded sagely as if he was agreeing with himself. "I spoke with my daughter and she managed to convince my son-in-law to lend me a few of his Valor Knights for a few hours. He did make me promise I wouldn't break anything, the spoil-sport."

Jarvan laughed, shaking his head in an attempt to appear jovial. "You're a sight for sore eyes, regardless."

"Enough with the family reunion." Jormander growled, looking down at the councilor and the general as they continued their laid back inspection of the general's facilities. "You've got what you want, now get out." He started to turn away with a sneer of disgust on his face, but General Lorcan raised his cane up and dropped it like a pile drive, the wood making a sharp _crack_ that reverberated around the room. Jormander stopped and looked back at the short, wiry haired general.

"General, one of the beautiful things about our great state of Demacia is our military system. In times of peace like this all of the members of the King's Command, each of his generals, has access to the system of check and balances in place to keep the balance of power in check amid the King's Command. It is thanks to this system of checks and balances than I am allowed to, and required by law, to tell you to FUCK OFF." General Lorcan's tone of voice had shifted immediately, changing him from that of a aging officer who just looked happy to be there to a martial monster who wielded the weight of Demacia's entire military behind him. "Now, if you will be so kind and do so, we were just leaving." He bowed his head slightly and spun, starting away, the entire room dead silent.

"This way, prince." The smile on Councilor Spiritmight's face didn't betray a similar sense of wonder and the urge to point and laugh that Jarvan felt welling in his chest.

"Right behind you." Jarvan said quietly, struggling to keep his tone in check. He cast one last look over his shoulder towards the general and immediately had to straighten up to keep from bursting into laughter. The general's mouth hung ajar and his eyes were as wide as saucers, as if he had just gotten slapped by the king himself.

* * *

Jarvan walked with Councilor Spiritmight and General Lorcan along one of the balconies that was open to the large courtyard that sat almost dead center of the palace. Various different important locations within the palace were located around the courtyard, with flagon-paved walkways lining and crisscrossing the well kept area. Normally, flowers and fruit trees broke up the grassy courtyard's four quadrants, but in the winter, the appearance was much more subdued. There was a large 'x' across the pristine snow field and there were tracks that sometimes diverged from the pathways as young officers decided to step into the snow. It was a a strangely idealistic view as the two officers strolled slowly along, talking quietly amongst themselves. Jarvan and the sergeant major followed a few paces back, giving the officers their distance as they spoke in hushed tones.

"I never realized you had so much pull, sergeant major." Jarvan said, a thin smile playing over his face.

"It's not much." The noncom grunted. "But I served extensively under Councilor Spiritmight back in the day and he trusts me well enough that I was able to convince him of what had happened. You should be thanking him, he was the one who orchestrated most of this. I did have to call in a favor to see him, though."

"I am curious how he managed to pull it off, honestly." Jarvan said, running his hand over his jaw again, feeling the thick stubble that had built up along his chin. "I wonder if he has any hints for managing Jormander, cause frankly I'm getting tired of it."

"Jormander is an upstart who has to think he's in control." Spiritmight said aloud, casting a thin smile back over his shoulder at the prince. Jarvan grinned, surprised the aging general had actually heard him. "He also dislikes a lack of control. Forcing him into a corner or forcing him to react causes him to lash out with anger or violence, often indirectly at loved ones and targets who are decidedly more vulnerable. In your case he believes your dragon friend to be the vulnerable one."

"You've dealt with him before?" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, just someone exactly like him." He shrugging and grinned. "Jormander reads like an open book. That's his one flaw. If you attack him directly and corner him, he usually withers quickly. He's rarely a man of direct action. That's why he fits the Demacian Security Brigade mentality so well. He likes micromanaging and overseeing, but he knows to stay out of the way."

"I'll keep that in mind." Jarvan said nodding, trying to think about who the councilor could have been speaking about having experience with. _Perhaps my father? _

"Keep learning about how to deal with people and you'll be a fine king one day, young prince." Lorcan said with a cackle. "Think of it as practice!"

"I'll try." Jarvan said, nodding. Shouts could be heard from below.

"Looks like something's about to go down." Lorcan mused, gesturing towards the center of the courtyard. The general and the councilor stopped, looking over the balcony towards the quad below. Jarvan frowned, glancing down, stepping towards the railing and looking out to see what was happening. Down below, the king was walking slowly across the quad, a number of different personnel following in his wake as he talked with the high councilor. Jarvan frowned. _I don't see anything out of the ordinary._

Something white and moving flashed and caught his eye, trailing after a deep red color. _Wait... is that..._

"Isn't that your dragoness friend, prince Jarvan?" Lorcan murmured, raising an eyebrow as he looked to the prince with curiosity coloring the smile that was starting to grow on his face.

"Shyvana, yes." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "I figured she would have still been resting in the hospital though."

"Perhaps her stamina is a bit better than yours, eh?" Lorcan cackled aloud, earning him a frown from both Jarvan and the councilor.

"She looks looks like she's on a mission to speak to the king." Councilor Spiritmight said with a hint of an entertained smile on his face.

"Perhaps she aims to demand she be allowed to whisk the young prince away, eh?" Lorcan cackled again, leaning forward on his cane, a broad smile now on his face. "Let's watch and see what she plans to do, It might prove interesting indeed."

"I need to get down there." Jarvan said, looking left and right along the pathway for stairs with a frown. A hand settled on his shoulder.

"Wait a moment. Watch and see what she plans to do, it may not be what you are expecting." Councilor Spiritmight said evenly.

"It's bad enough for us as it is." Jarvan grumbled, again looking left and right for the quickest way down to the quad. He started to tug away from his grandfather, but the elder man kept a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Watch and see." Her encouraged serenely. "If you do not give her room to grow on her own, she will never improve or learn." He shook his head as Jarvan looked back at him, almost distraught. "Patience, child. Watch and see."

Jarvan gripped the railing that protected the third story walkway, his fists white-knuckled along the stone as he watched the dragoness close with the king and his guard.

* * *

"...And with the tensions in Kalamanda rising steadily, moving into the region may not be a wise move, your highness." The high councilor wore a frown but his blue eyes did not lack for intensity as he watched the snow-cloaked branches of a bare apple tree get shaken by a gust of wind. "If we continue to provoke the Noxians, we may end up causing more trouble than we wish to deal with."

"I'm well aware of the dangers that escalation of conflict brings, Elias." The king said, sighing heavily, running a gloved hand over his beard as he glowered. "But these recent attacks upon my son have me worried. Someone wishes to force my hand and I do not want to be in the position of having to respond to the worst case scenario. If something like that were to happen, I don't know what Catherine or I would do."

"I know, but he takes after your grandfather." High Councilor Elias said, laughing. The high councilor had originally been given his position by Jarvan II, and he had continued his position in the legislative house under the king's successor. "He'd rather jump in head first and fight his way out than make a meticulous plan about how best to approach a situation. I do not mean to try and do the parenting for you, your highness, but I do think that you need to stop expecting the prince to behave as you did. He is no longer a child, and his time away from the kingdom has both hardened and wizened him much faster than you or anyone expected."

"I know, and that scares me, Elias." The king said shaking his head. "He's much stronger than I could ever hope to be, and he's far wiser than I was at his age... but..."

"But?" Elias said with a chuckle. "I did not think that statement needed addendum." The king shot the high councilor a scornful glare, but the high councilor chuckled softly and waved the kings gaze off as if it were nothing.

"He's still young and brash." The king said, shaking his head as he looked to the ground. "He is still impulsive and he doubts himself. He cannot lead a company of men, much less a nation if he still doubts his every move."

"Perhaps it is because you show him no faith, your highness." Elias said evenly. "You doubt even his choice of companionship. She may not be of the royal court, but you must admit, she is strong willed and of even stronger body."

"But I know nothing about her." The king said, shaking his head. "She is as foreign to me as raising a child was ten years ago." The king scowled, sighing heavily. "Besides, Catherine and I had an arranged marriage, and we turned out well enough."

"There is a substantial difference, though." Elias said, a thin frown forming on his face. "You and Catherine were close from the time you were wee children, and your parents made sure that you stayed close as you grew. You saw each other frequently because of her father's work in the council and your father being king. You two were in love for nearly as long a time as the arranged marriage was in place. Give the boy some space and call off this new engagement. Besides, she is only foreign to you because you keep her as such. Perhaps if you took the time to get to know her..."

"Enough." Jarvan III said gruffly, sighing and shaking his head. "I've heard this all before from Catherine. She would also see our son court the dragon-girl."

"She has both you and your son's best interests first and foremost in her heart, your highness." The high-councilor said evenly. "Is your maintaining control of the prince's life so important that you would completely drive him away? No father should ever do something so coldhearted as that, even the king of Demacia." The high-councilor slapped the king's shoulder. "He's a grown man. Let him be happy."

The king frowned thoughtfully, though the High-councilor noticed that his scowl had softened noticeably. "I'll give your suggestion some thought." The king said finally, shaking his head. "I don't know if Catherine would ever forgive me if I drove Jarvan away again, and I think she's only just recovering from the shock of the assassination attempt against him several weeks back."

"A king's wisest council is often his wife." Elias said with a grin. "Catherine only recently returned to the council meetings, not long after the attack, I thought. She looked to be handling it fairly well."

The king shook his head solemnly. "She's been completely torn up about Jarvan since he returned. The assassination attempt nearly gave her a heart attack, and she barely held it together when she saw him laying in that hospital bed. She couldn't face going back to see him like that, and after two sleepless nights she had to find something to take her mind off of it. For the first time since Jarvan left over two years ago she delved into the world of politics, and it has kept her occupied enough that she's been able to sleep some, albeit, fitfully."

"No woman should ever have to see her child brush so close to death so many time." Elias said gravely. "Did you ever figure out who was responsible for the attack?"

"General Jormander thinks aggravated Zaunite miners with all of the attention on Kalamanda recently, but my gut tells me there is more to it than that." The king shook his head. "I'm afraid that despite reports about a simple malfunction of Piltovan technology, the dragoness may have been targeted as well."

"Why target her?" Elias said, frowning. "The documentation for her commendations stated that she was passing through the area and was merely giving assistance to the Piltovans. You think it not a coincidence?"

"There have been too many coincidences aimed at her and my son for it to remain a coincidence any longer." The king shook his head and frowned. "An accident that occurs close after an attack... that is a coincidence. But with these new developments in the docks? No, someone is definitely behind this, whether or not the east gate explosion was an accident or not. Someone is trying to force my hand, Elias, and I don't like it."

"The woes of the powerful." The old man chuckled and shook his head. "How is the prince? I heard he had quite the shock when he found out who the dead marksman had been."

"Is there anything you do not know?" The king said, casting a wary glance at the high councilor.

"It pays to have friends who keep their ears to the ground, your highness." Elias said with an entertained smile. "I _also _heard that Jormander went a bit overboard and detained the prince as his primary suspect. I heard the prince ended up sending one of Jormander's men to the infirmary while he was still detained."

The king snorted. "Now that is something I haven't heard quite yet." He glowered and shook his head. "It seems about time I had a chat with Jormander about his methodologies. General Lorcan, with support from my father-in-law, apparently invoked a power check on Jormander because of this whole incident. It's been twenty years since the last time that happened."

"I'll hear more about this when it comes to the attention on the council, no doubt." Elias said evenly, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. "There has to be a serious breach of conduct for another general to invoke such a power..."

"I don't look forward to sorting it all out over the next few days." The king glowered. "I have enough trouble with my son already, I don't need Jormander turning my command on its head as well."

"Wait, Shyvana!" A voice called from across the open quad. "I'm telling you, this is a really bad idea!" The guards at the front of the king's small procession had come to a halt, their weapons drawn and pointed forwards along the path.

"Speaking of trouble, it appears to have found you." Elias said, chuckling lightly. "I wonder what storm drives this young one to move so quickly."

"Halt!" The guards ordered, crossing their spears in a menacing fashion to stop the red headed dragoness's forceful advance. "You are not permitted to be here!"

"Excuse us, your highness." A snowy haired soldier with gunnery sergeant's rank tabs said, bowing nervously. She turned to the dragoness and hissed: "We're leaving! This was a bad idea!"

"Enough, Sergeant." The king said, eying the dragoness's angry glare with a mix of trepidation and curiosity. "Captain?" He spoke to the lead guard of his procession, and though the officer looked hesitant, the lances were retracted and the dragoness approached, the gunny looking exceedingly nervous as she followed. Elias cast the king an encouraging smile and Jarvan III shook his head discreetly. He turned to the two young women. Despite the fire in Shyvana's eyes she snapped to attention and saluted crisply until the king returned it. "What business does a Royal Guard trainee have with the king at this hour?"

"You know full well why I'm here, _sir!"_ Shyvana growled, her fists quivering at her side. "Jarvan is locked up in a Demsec prison cell and you act as if nothing has happened! Explain yourself!" The king hid his shock at her venomous tone well, but the gunny did not. The king took a deep breath and clasped his hands at the small of his back.

"First of all, my son _was_ the principle suspect in a murder case, young woman." The king said, keeping his tone even. "Secondly, to my knowledge, he was released into custody of his commanding officer this morning. Thirdly, while you may be on fond terms with both my son and my wife, I am still the commander and chief as well as the KING of Demacia, and you shall treat me with the respect I am due."

"Apologies, your highness!" Alicia squealed nervously, bowing rapidly. She started to turn away, tugging on Shyvana's arm but the dragoness stood her ground. "Shyvana, let's go find Jarvan. Shy?" When Shyvana did not flinch or back down, fire blazing in her eyes, Alicia's already pale skin paled to that of the snow itself. "Shyvana!" She hissed. "What are you doing!"

"There is something else you wish to say?" The king said evenly, his temper still holding steady, though his eyes were on the verge of clouding over dangerously.

"You told Jarvan that I could challenge a man named Xin Zhao for the right to remain by his side. Is this true?" Shyvana demanded. The king watched her for a few moments, but he could already tell that she was not going to back down from her stance, now that she had gained this much ground.

_She has guts, I'll give her that much._ The king looked her up and down. She wore only a set of winter fatigues and light armor: a chest plate and faulds, vambraces and a set of greaves and matching sabatons. Her hair fell behind her in a thick braid, and her face was hard with determination, fire glowing in her magenta eyes. He frowned slightly. "That was not the exact words I used, but should you challenge and defeat Xin Zhao, you will be permitted to conclude your training early and I shall personally assign you to the prince as his personal guard."

"Where is he then?" Shyvana demanded, stepping forward again, bringing her closer to the king. "I wish to fight him!" Alicia imposed herself between the king and Shyvana, trying to calm the dragoness.

"Hold on, Shy." Alicia said softly. She turned to the king, and though her cheeks burned red she stood up straight and spoke firmly. "What conditions does this challenge carry, your highness?"

"You are wise to ask." The king said, his eyes remaining icy. "But there were no conditions. You are allowed to challenge him as you see fit. A loss carries no penalty, though I would warn you to ensure you are prepared for that eventuality."

"Don't be so confident!" Shyvana snapped, growling as flakes of snow swirled around her feet, the packed snow along the flagon-paved path melting as steam rose around her, swirling menacingly.

"I would warn you of the same." The king said, glaring at her. He finally shook his head and turned to one of the guards. "Captain, please summon the Seneschal."

"At once." The guard said, bowing his head and turning away, moving swiftly off.

"Has your wound healed sufficiently?" The king said, eying Shyvana's hip as her hand was drawn to it. She made a show of standing up straighter and forming a fist with her hand, jerking it to her side. She nodded defiantly, though the king could see a moments hesitation in her eyes.

"It is fine." She said quietly, her voice subdued slightly.

"Perhaps you should go and attend to the prince now, young lady." Elias said, finally stepping into the conversation. "You seem to still be hurt, and not being able to fight at your best against the Seneschal is not advisable."

"I refuse to abandon the prince." Shyvana said, anger lacing her voice. "I may not understand why he hates you so, but if I did not do everything within my power to help him, I would shame both myself and my father."

"If I could, I should like to know what the prince has done that has won such loyalty from you, young lady." Elias said, again interjecting himself into the conversation as the King's eyes turned a menacing and terrifying dark blue. "It seems to me that this is no ordinary bond you two share."

Shyvana's shoulders fell slightly as she blushed lightly, looking to the ground for a brief moment. She raised her head and met the king's glare openly, fire blazing brightly in her eyes. "He accepts me for who I am. He gives me the strength to believe in myself. He proved to me, that instead of being an outcast among humans and dragon-kind alike, that I have strength! I owe him for rescuing me from the bowels of self hatred and anger and for showing me that there is more to life than hatred itself!" She stood up straighter as fire and sparks now danced around her, billowing her hair slightly. Guards started to raise their weapons, but the gale of heat and wind grew stronger, forcing them to shield their eyes as cinder and ice alike were cast violently about as her voice steadily grew louder. She raised a finger and pointed it like a sword at the king's chest. "You can try to keep us apart, you can try to break our resolve and shatter us to the wind, but I will remain here, taking whatever punishment you can try and inflict until you realize that I will not be defeated! I don't give a damn about what you think about me, king or not! I love Jarvan and nothing you can say will ever change that!" The wind was instantly dispelled, leaving a large circle where the snow and ice had been melted away by the heat of the air and the sparks of flames that had danced around her but moments before. Her chest heaved as she glared at the king as if she wondered whether he had the audacity to reply.

Silence filled the courtyard, hundreds of soldiers, officers and staff all watching on, their eyes locked on the king and the dragoness.

* * *

Jarvan's cheeks burned a brilliant red.

"I must say, she's won my vote." Councilor Brightstorm said, the astonishment on his face fading as it was replaced with a smile. Lorcan stamped his cane on the ground as he cackled to himself, grinning massively as he turned to the prince. The councilor nodded to himself as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Lionhearted, that one."

"I told you this once before, boy: She's one of a kind." Lorcan hooted and laughed, shaking his head. "I'm curious what exactly happened between you to that drove her to this, but I'd be willing to bet-..."

"We had a fight." Jarvan murmured, gazing down to where Shyvana glared definitely at his father.

"Say what?" Lorcan said softly, a frown playing over his face. He snorted once, a bit of confusion. "That's not exactly what I was expecting..."

"It made you realize just how important she was to you, though, did it not?" Councilor Brightstorm said evenly, looking to his grandson. Jarvan nodded, still looking down at her in the courtyard. "It seems that she has come to the same conclusion as you. You are a good match for each other." He chuckled lightly.

Jarvan, his cheeks still blushed, nodded, a smile breaking over his face. _Shyvana, you complete and utter fool... how I love you so._


	33. Chapter 32: Seneschal

_Squawk._

"I don't know what you expect me to do, Valor." Quinn said, sitting atop the roof of one of the palace buildings, looking down over the proceedings with a thin grin.

_Squa-squawk._

"I know he asked us to keep an eye on her." Quinn said, rolling her eyes. "I've got two on her right now. Nothing I can do." Quinn sighed heavily, looking around the courtyard at the huge mass of people that had gathered to watch the fight. More people steadily trickled in as the minutes passed.

_Squawk?_

"I won't interfere with her fight, Val. I was to keep Jormander and his thugs away from her. I've done that." Quinn said, rolling her eyes again. "Ow!" She hissed as the eagle nipped the back of her hand, cocking his head from side to side. "Val! Stop it!"

_Squawk_!

"Stow it, bird brain." Quinn said, waving a hand at the eagle and sending him flapping into the air, spiraling higher and higher. Quinn watched the Demacian Eagle climb, finally shaking her head and frowning, letting her voice become soft and small. "I heard what she said, and I don't care. It's not like I can do anything about the two of them now." She leaned heavily on her arm and watched, waiting for the fight to start. _With an outburst that bold, Shyvana, I sure hope you've got the strength to back it up._

* * *

A crowd had now gathered along the edges of the courtyard, soldiers, officers, clerks, palace staff ranging from cooks to maids, and even a collection of high ranking officers had turned out along the balconies to watch the show.

"They act as if this was some sort of spectator sport." Jarvan grumbled, looking around the walkways and the courtyard itself. There was a large circle in the very center of the courtyard where Shyvana's flames had melted the ice that the two competitors now stood. Jarvan shook his head, leaning heavily on the railing, a frown clear on his face.

"Does it remind you of the time you were sent to the Noxian Gladiator's ring to be executed by her hand?" Lorcan said with a grin.

"No, that was terrifying." Jarvan grumbled. "This is just gut wrenching."

"It's compelling stuff." The councilor said, shrugging with a thin smile on his face. "Young miss Shyvana, an unknown who had captured the heart of the prince who has been locked away in a tower by his father. The young warrior now fights for the prince's hand in marriage and the approval of the king! Tis a fairy tale come to life, my boy!"

"You make it sound like I am some damsel in distress!" Jarvan said, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning at his grandfather.

"Well, naught but a few hours prior you were locked up in a prison cell." The councilor said, chuckling.

"Shall we send you back so you can play the part?" Lorcan piped up, grinning mischievously. "I can probably scare up a dress that'll put a blush on her face when she comes to rescue you if you want."

"I'll pass, thanks." Jarvan said, shaking his head politely, giving the general a polite but disapproving smile as the man cackled to himself, still leaning on his cane. _Truth be told, I could use something to take my mind off this. The anticipation is killing me!_

* * *

"You may choose any weapon you wish." The king said evenly, gesturing to an array that was being held out to her by several guards. She frowned, looking across to her opponent who stood stock still in the middle of their makeshift arena, his eyes closed, his spear held vertically before him as if he were meditating. She looked back to the array of weapons that were available for her to use. Guards held axes, swords, shields, lances, numerous knives and other weapons, but short of a little training with swords and lances, much of it was exotic and would be useless in her hands.

_His lance gives him range advantage. _She frowned, looking to the lance that a soldier carried. She flexed her hands around dragon's head gauntlets she had brought with her. They were scarred and badly beaten, but they had also served her well through her training. _I can't give him an advantage such as range, but..._ She sighed and started fiddling with the larger of the two gauntlets, tightening the straps around her arm and sliding it a bit further up on her arm so she could carry a weapon. Satisfied it wouldn't budge, she gestured to the lance. The guard tossed the large weapon to her with both hands grunting with exertion; the dragoness caught it with one hand. She was surprised by how light the weapon felt in her hands. _It weighs nothing compared to Jarvan's lance. _She stepped into the ring and posted the lance by her side, holding the buckler slightly away from her body. She turned and nodded at the king, making sure she wore a confident frown as she did. _I mustn't show any weakness._

"The fight shall go until the first fighter concedes victory." The king announced from the side of the makeshift ring. His guards stood close at hand, ready to jump in between a stray projectile or a flying body, anything that may threaten the life of the king. Several court mages also stood by, ready to protect the crowd if anything were to go wrong. "There are no restrictions. Fight honorably. You may begin!"

"As my king commands," Xin said, bowing shallowly to the king. "It shall be done." A cheer went up around the courtyard, and Shyvana found herself in a surprisingly familiar position. Xin bowed to her in a fighter's salute; Shyvana did not return the gesture. Instead, she started pacing in a circle, watching as the man opposite her did the same. He wore armor that was slightly different from most of the Demacian guardsmen. The plates were lighter and thinner, shaped differently, almost cruder in a way. He wore vambraces, grieves, pauldrons, a chest plate and a glimmering silver mail hauberk under a sleeveless tunic that bore the Demacian livery and dropped to low on his thigh. Metal faulds hung from a belt on his hips, cinched tight, gathering what little excess there was in the tunic and hauberk. It was armor pieced together for mobility, not so much the heavy protection her fellow Demacian guardsmen preferred. It would offer the barest minimum safety, but not in any heavy fighting.

_He relies on mobility, rather than armor._ Shyvana frowned, his fighting style would likely contradict hers, and she felt dread start to coalesce in her stomach.

"You seem to be familiar to this setting." He spoke aloud, catching Shyvana by surprise. She faltered a step, but quickly regained her footing, each of the warriors sizing up their opponent. "Few know the pressure and the thrill a fight like this carries, and how the desire for victory calls. Have you fought as a gladiator before?" Though he wasn't much taller than herself, Xin's presence came from his confidence and the intensity of his eyes, dark and concentrated, rather than sheer bulk.

Shyvana frowned. She did not wish to give up any sign on weakness, but she also didn't know when to expect an attack. _If I speak and he jumps me, then he shall have the upper hand. _She kept her guard up, both the lance and the buckler raised. "I have, only a short time though." She shook her head. "It wasn't exactly by choice."

He smiled knowingly. "You and I are much the same, then. I too was forced to fight as a gladiator until I was rescued by Jarvan II and brought here to Demacia. I swore my allegiance and here I stand, serving the king."

_He's exactly like me!_ Shyvana shook the shocked look off of her face. "Then you know why I am doing this." She said, meeting his glare, letting a thin smile slide onto her face. "You understand why I must and will beat you."

"I understand why you desire to beat me, yes." Xin said serenely. "But I don't think that you will win."

"Then why don't you come over here and prove it!" Shyvana snarled, letting her anger get the best of her.

As if accepting the invitation, Xin launched himself forward in an audacious charge as if his lance were an arrow that had been shot directly at Shyvana's throat. She threw the buckler up just in time to bounce the lance away, but he followed through, forcing the blade onwards, catching Shyvana just under the shoulder. The sharpened spear head caught the under side of her shoulder pauldron and it nicked her arm, drawing blood. He immediately started his withdrawal, as there was no excess force in the blow to carry it out and away from her body. He retracted the lance as he stepped inwards, shouting a vicious battle cry as he brought the point forth in a swift stabbing motion, aimed directly at her gut. Shyvana blocked the first driving blow with with the buckler, but the second blow came impossibly quick after the first. It was aimed for the center of her mass, and she started to bring the lance down to knock the blow away, but it punched through her chest plate, directly along the center of her mass. Shyvana gasped for breath against the impact of the lance as cool air swirled inside her tunic between her breasts. She looked down at the shallow marks in the armor, expecting blood but there was none. As his lance retracted for the third strike, she rolled away, returning the distance between them. Her chest heaved with surprise; she had not realized it but she had been holding her breath since he charged, and the lance had caught her shoulder.

Shyvana touched her fingers that held the smaller half of the gauntlets to her shoulder, coming away bloody. She growled as the blood dripped down her arm, staining the freshly falling snow red with blood. Her arm felt heavy, the shield weighing it down., but she used her other arm to raise the lance up towards him and keep him at distance.

"You fight and defend savagely." Xin mused softly, watching as she paced. "But it seems fate has already made its choice, and a Demacian does not retreat."

"That is why I still stand and face you." Shyvana said, her voice wavering slightly. "The blood of my father runs strong within me, and I have yet to show Demacia my strength."

"Only actions truly speak." Xin said with a thin smile. "It is time you show me if you are truly worthy of the position you seek. Come, let me see if you have what it takes to be a true Demacian with the tip of my lance."

He paced carefully towards her, slowly closing.. Shyvana cloaked her legs in fire and launched herself forward, charging directly at the Seneschal, jumping forward with a burst of speed. She lashed out at him with a swing of the lance, arcing it up and across her body. Xin stepped inward, dodging the lance, but Shyvana knew she had screwed up. The bladed head of the lance carried much further than she intended, despite the weapon's light weight she did not have the strength of wrist to control the circular motion of the long weapon. Xin caught the head of the lance in the fork of his spear and tried to rip it from Shyvana's hands, but she kept a firm grip on the weapon and yanked back, jerking the Seneschal about. He let the lance slide from his forked weapon, stepping backwards out of her strike as she flailed the lance around again in a broad, sweeping strike.

"Do not bore me with a weapon you do not know how to use." Xin said firmly as she stepped back, and started to circle, yet again. "I have no time or interest in such worthless shows of bravado."

"I'll show you what I can do with it!" Shyvana snarled, raising the weapon over her shoulder, tossing it up slightly and catching it in her fist and then chucking it like a missile at the man's head. He seemed surprised by the speed of the projectile as it closed with his head. He ducked slightly, the lance passing through his ponytail and sending strands of hair fluttering to the ground. He looked back to the dragoness as she sprinted forth on a sheet of flames, the larger of the two gauntlets raised back as she leaped and crashed towards him. He raised the lance, a frown crossing his face as he held her off with his lance, struggling against the weight of her body and the heat of her flames as they descended onto him like the weight of a volcano whose cinder and ash darkened the sky.

She braced her knees against his lance as she fell, Xin forced to use his brute strength to hold her back, a brief moment of anger crossing his face. Shyvana kicked off, launching herself into the air. Behind them, a mage threw up a massive, shimmering blue barrier that bounced the lance backwards, high into the air in a spinning arc. She caught the lance and brought it down, driving the head of the lance down as if she were slaying a beast, a victorious smile on her face.

Xin slid backwards a step and brought his own lance up, catching the shaft of Shyvana's lance in hand and snapping it it with a deft twist, sending the dragoness crashing to the ground. She landed in a heap, gasping for breath as she coughed blood violently on the ground. She coughed raggedly several times, casting blood upon the ground as her chest heaved. She slowly pushed herself to her feet, wiping blood from her chin as she got to her feet.

"You are injured." Xin said evenly, looking at her with no expression upon his face. He frowned slightly as she pushed herself upwards, raising the dragon's head gauntlets before her face as she readied herself to fight.

"You would fight with nothing but buckler and a manifer?" Xin said, a moment of disbelief passing over his face.

"I need nothing more." Shyvana said, her voice weak as she dashed forth, a trail of flames marking the ground as she sprinted, dirt flying as she barreled along, coming up low as she snarled and reared her gauntlets back to strike. Xin shouted fiercely, sweeping out as he spun his lance around his body in a crescent sweep. The lance caught Shyvana in the stomach, her eyes bulging as she exhaled sharply. The force of the blow lofted her and sent her flying backwards. She hit the ground hard and rolled along the ground, her body bouncing. Her gauntlets were sent skittering away from her along the ground as she finally skidded to a halt in a mix of mud and snow.

The crowded courtyard was utterly silent as Xin slowly approached her, holding his lance vertically, close to the head. Shyvana groaned as she rolled over, untwisting her mess of arms and legs, rolling onto her stomach as she tried to pick herself up off the ground, her side screaming as blood stained the mud and snow a violent crimson color. She managed to get to her knees, screaming in pain as she clutched her stomach and her side where the gash marred her body, blood spilling from behind her hand. Her voice started to drop as anger and ferocity tainted her pained scream, dropping her head as horns burst from her skull. Xin Zhao watched serenely as her head came up, diamond pupils and golden eyes dancing with fire as steam and thin flames circled around her, dancing along the ground. They threatened to turn into an inferno as she started to bring a knee up to rise to her feet. She snarled at Xin as blue scales started to show on her face, creeping inward along her cheek bones and up along her neck.

"Power flows through me!" Shyvana declared, demonic anger flowing through her voice. Her tone grew multitonal and vicious as the flames sparked into an inferno, raging along the ground around her. Gusting wind, ushered by the heat of her flames, whipped at her body and Xin Zhao, but the man betrayed no hesitation and no fear. "Tremble before the power of a dragon!"

"Guards, barriers!" the captain of the king's guard shouted, the mages seemingly dumbstruck by Shyvana's anger and the furious flames that continued to grow. They raised their staves up and a bubbled began to form around the Seneschal and the dragoness, pale blue and translucent. Xin frowned, but stepped forward, raising his spear up across his chest. He brought it down violently, catching Shyvana across the face and sending her crashing to the ground. The wind spluttered and died, and the flames dropped away, leaving a cloud of steam to float down along the ground.

Shyvana lay on the ground, motionless for several long seconds, a soft murmur passing through the ground. "Is she alive?" one man murmured. "Maybe she's dead..." Another answered. The king frowned, crossing his arms over his chest, glancing left and around around the crowd, surprised by the worry over the dragoness. He turned back to the makeshift arena and watched, waiting for her to move.

"Captain, perhaps you should send for a doctor." Jarvan III said quietly. The man nodded, waving a soldier over and passing the order along. _I thought you stronger than this... _

A groan could be heard from within the dome as the steam started to settle, the wispy white material growing heavy in the cold air. Shyvana stirred on the ground. She pushed herself onto her back, flopping over as her chest rose and fell slowly. She started to prop herself up with an arm, pain rife on her face, but she froze, the bladed head of Xin Zhao's lance leveled with her throat.

"Your wound is severe." Xin Zhao said calmly as he looked down at her, his dark eyes watching her intently, his lance held between them, the tip hovering just under her chin. "You should give up already. Take some time to learn and heal up, you might be ready in a few months time."

"I cannot!" Shyvana snarled, shaking her head, glaring up at him defiantly. A slight smile grew on Xin's face as he watched her writhe in anger and pain. "I will not!" She tried to claw her way forward, but the pain in her side was blinding, the pain in her shoulder aching and her legs screaming in agony. "I cannot fail Jarvan! I refuse!"

"Your dedication and spirit are admirable, but your fighting skill is lacking and you rely on your physical strength too much." Xin Zhao said serenely, withdrawing his lance. "A battle is not only a test of strength, it is a test of the mind. You have strength and courage in spades, but you do not think. You leap blindly." He shouldered his lance and turned away, taking several steps when he froze for a moment and then side stepped a small rock. The pebble arced through the air, bouncing along the flagon-paved pathway he had been about to step onto.

"Don't turn your back on me..." Shyvana panted, as fire spluttered around her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply as she tried to summon her flames. "I am not done with you!"

"I am done with you, though." Xin Zhao said, turning away. "This fight bores me." He shook his head in disapproval as he strode slowly away.

"Coward!" Shyvana shouted angrily, pain contorting her voice as tears rolled down her face.

"It is not cowardly to know your own body's limits." Xin said, pausing as he looked back over his shoulder at the dragoness. He shook his head, the black pony tail shaking behind him. "Come back when you have learned how to fight and when your wound has healed. Perhaps then it will be a real battle." Xin approached the king and then bowed. "Apologies, your highness. That took me slightly longer than I expected."

"You fought well." The king said, nodding at his body guard. He turned to Shyvana, and frowned slightly. "As did you. You are strong, but you are like my son. You are too headstrong and you think yourself stronger than you are. I hope this fight has taught you that, if nothing else." Shyvana remained silent, tears running down her face as she gripped at the muddy ground, her fist shuddering slightly in anger. The king cast her one last glance and shook his head before turning back to the high-councilor and his guards. "Captain?"

"Oh—of course, sir." The head guardsman said, shaking his head from watching the fight. He quickly formed his men up and escorted the king away.

_I can't believe I lost!_ Shyvana formed a fist and struck the ground, pain reverberating through her shoulder and chest as tears formed in her eyes. _Damnit! I f only I were stronger! I've failed!_

"Shyvana!"

The voice startled the dragoness, and for a brief moment her heart soared. _Jarvan!?_ Quickly it fell though, the weight of her failure and the fear of seeing him again after their fight weighing heavily on her mind. She tried to get to her feet, but her legs failed her, her side screaming in pain as she collapsed back to the ground. "Jarvan..."

"Shyvana, you shouldn't move!" Alicia said desperately, dropping to the dragoness's side. "Your wound has opened again!" She looked the dragoness up and down quickly, a frown marring her face as she shook her head. "I told you this was a foolish idea!" The gunny pulled a small medical kit from her bag and opened it up, pulling gauze out and draping it over the large wound in the dragoness side. "But I'm glad you're alright. You had me worried there for a second."

"Please..." Shyvana said softly, tears still running down her face as she looked up at Alicia. "Do not let Jarvan see me like this. I don't not wish to see him after such a failure."

"Shyvana, If I were the prince I would be worried sick right now!" Alicia hissed, frowning as Shyvana whimpered under her care. "Here, hold this." Alicia said, pulling the dragoness's hand up and pressing it over the wound along her side to keep the thick wad on gauze in place.

"I know..." Shyvana said, wincing as Alicia helped roll the dragoness onto her back, leaving her staring at the sky. "I just... I can't face Jarvan right now. Not like this. Not after I've failed him so."

"Don't be an idiot!" Alicia hissed, glaring at her with a motherly frown. "You haven't failed anything or anyone, especially not Jarvan." She shook her head. "If anything, you should be angry at yourself for coming out here while you were still injured, you fool."

"But-..." Shyvana started to protest, but Alicia's angry glare quelled her complaints. _I'm afraid of what he may say... I do not wish to be shamed or scolded. I already know I have failed._

"Shyvana!" Jarvan practically slid to the ground next to the dragoness, leaning over her. She turned away, and refused to meet his gaze, though her cheeks were furiously blushed. She tried to turn away, but pain coursed through her and she groaned.

"I'm sorry..." She whispered throatily as tears welled in her eyes. She shook her head gently, refusing to meet his gaze as he glared down at her. She whimpered as he tried to help her sit up, still clutching the gauze to her side. She blushed as she finally looked up at him, tears glassing her magenta eyes over. She tried to blink the tears away but they only ran down her cheeks, cutting a swath in the mud that stained her fair cheeks.

"Shy..." Jarvan said gently, looking her over, his hand hesitating over the wound on her hip. "Why are you apologizing?" He shook his head and pulled her close, summoning another weak wimpier from the dragoness, a sad and affectionate smile sliding onto his face. It suddenly hardened into a scowl as he glared at her. "You complete idiot!"

"What!?" She turned to look at him with outrage and anger at his senseless outburst, but he leaned down and kissed her deeply, taking her by surprise. She opposed him for just a few moments before she met his kiss with vigor, pressing firmly up against him. She flowed into his arms as best she could, whimpering slightly against the pain as she wrapped an arm around his head and pulling herself close as she hugged him. "Jarvan..." She whispered softly as tears dampened his neck. She took a deep breath of his scent, pressing her face into his neck again as she held him close, letting her breathing slow. Jarvan hugged her carefully, holding her close for several long moments. "It feels so good to wrap you in my arms after these past few days." She shook her head. "I was so worried after you left, and then Delancey told me what happened with Jormander... I was terrified that the worst had happened."

"Gods, I can't tell you how much I've missed you." Jarvan said softly, resting his forehead against the dragoness's, taking a few moments to breath her spicy scent. Tears ran down her cheeks as he sat back, cradling her in his lap, looking down at the dark red splotch that marred her side. "That wound..."

"It's the same one as before." Alicia said, shaking her head as she glared at the dragoness. "She said she was fine, but obviously that's not the case. As soon as she could walk, she took off to find the king and the Seneschal because of what _you_ told her!" Alicia hissed, anger in her eyes as she glared at the prince. She shook her head as she continued to dig through her bag, looking for more gauze.

"I'm sorry..." Shyvana said sheepishly, averting her magenta eyes. "I-I..." Tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"What are you apologizing for, love?" Jarvan said softly, blinking a few times before he cupped her cheek and tried to brush a tear away with his thumb. He only managed to spread some of the mud around on he cheek, ridding her face of the streaks. He chuckled softly and Shyvana coughed a single sad chuckle as well before she winced in pain. Jarvan shook his head and gave her a soft smile. "I told you already, I should be the one saying how sorry I am... This never should have happened. The fight, the news of Elvarran, this entire fiasco. It's all my fault and I just hope you can forgive m-..." Shyvana pressed a finger to his lips and shook her head, smiling at him.

"It's okay." She whispered, her voice growing thick with pain, still holding back tears. "You're here now and that's all that I care about."

"Shyvana, you fool." Jarvan said, shaking his head, leaning down and kissing her tenderly again. "If I had thought you were going to rush out and demand a fight with Xin like this I would have never even mentioned it to you." He glared at her, but softened the gesture with a smile as she blushed and glanced away.

"I wanted to prove that I could stand by your side on my own two feet." She said softly, a frown settling on her face. "I'm only sorry that I failed. If only I had..."

"Don't worry about it." Jarvan said, sighing softly and shaking his head. "I'm just glad that you're okay. There will be many chances to try again later when you have healed." He drew her into another hug, the dragoness keeping her arm wrapped around the prince's neck, holding him close. She whimpered gently, but she kept her hand laced in his mane of black hair. Her breath quickened slightly, and Jarvan released her, lowering her down but continued to hold her in his lap.

"If you squeeze her any tighter, you might just bust the rest of her stitches, sir." A medic said with a scowl as he dropped to the dragoness's side. Jarvan looked surprised, glancing about to see who had summoned the medics. He looked to Alicia, but she shook her head tersely and went back to pulling Shyvana's armored shoulder plate off and tying a bandage in place. As if he knew what the prince was thinking, the medic grinned. "The king sent us." Jarvan blinked a few times but said nothing, shaking his head after a few moments and sighing. Shyvana squeezed his hand and gave him a smile, wincing slightly as Alicia finished tying the bandage off around the dragoness's arm.

"I'll tell you what." Jarvan said, a smile spread onto his face. "As soon as you get healed up, fully healed mind you, I'll help you train. We can take the evenings and you can learn to fight against a lance user. Xin Zhao did train me some so I know a few of his tricks. Besides, we've never actually had a tie breaker match anyways." Jarvan said with a grin.

Shyvana smiled and nodded, blushing lightly. "I'd like that." She said gently, closing her eyes as she rested her cheek against the prince's chest. "I just hope you know you're going to lose."

Jarvan grinned as he stroked her cheek. "That's the spirit." Several soldiers approached with a stretcher held between them, lowering it to the ground next to Shyvana. The soldiers moved towards the dragoness, one of them gesturing for Jarvan to take her other shoulder.

"Ready?" The medic said as he grabbed Shyvana's chest piece. Another medic nodded, taking a hold on her legs. "This may hurt a bit." Shyvana squeezed the prince's hand tightly and closed her eyes, holding them shut. Jarvan nodded at the medic. "Up we go!" They moved her gently onto a stretcher, pain playing over Shyvana's face as she screwed her face up so as not to whimper too loud. The medic gestured for the new soldiers to lift her up. They lifted her up gently, and then the medic got to his feet, Jarvan following slowly after him. "Alright, your highness. Let's go."

Jarvan blinked a few times, surprised, gesturing to himself. "Me?"

The medic nodded. "We're to take you and the dragon-girl here to the hospital. She needs new stitches and you need a check up according to General Lorcan. The king confirmed Lorcan's orders."

Jarvan slid his hand into Shyvana's hand as a smile broke onto the prince's face. _Thank you, father._


	34. Chapter 33: Training

Jarvan walked through the halls of the training barracks, looking around, a thin grin on his face as he reminisced about the days long past when he had first graduated from the academy. _My unit had been stationed here for several days until we had been ordered into Runeterra._ Jarvan paused in the doorway of one of the main enlisted men's bunk halls. Most of the men were already headed down deeper into the building for dinner that evening, though a few shouts and the laughter of men could be heard from down the hallway. The room was long, a fire crackling at either end to keep the room warm against the chill of the snow and the winter winds outside. Jarvan recognized the room as he wandered a few steps in, running his hand along the stone wall. Bunks lined each wall, leaving a large open area along the center where two tables sat, end to end, massive benches along either side.

Memories of watching his soldiers play card games, stories being swapped, and letters being read from loved ones as soldiers played small instruments and laughed among themselves fluttered in Jarvan's mind. They would jump to their feet to salute, but Jarvan would call them down as he walked among them, watching the excited expressions on each man's face. A mix of green troops and veterans had been blended together to form much of the unit, and with his noncoms' guidance and his encouragement, the Lieutenants had been doing everything they could to promote the troop morale. Jarvan had gotten them some of the best accommodations, and the company quartermaster had rationed out an extra week's worth of tobacco and liquor for the troops as the days crept down towards their departure date. Jarvan strolled to and fro among the men, slapping shoulders and giving the men encouraging words. Some may have been green, but they had been training for months on end, and Jarvan could see it in their eyes: they were ready to fight.

He paused and listened to jokes as men laughed and boasted, laughing along with his men and mingling without interrupting. Jarvan purposefully ignored where men ducked beneath the covers and female giggling sounded from beneath the sheets, giving the men a stern look, but not scolding or calling them out. They had blown away the standings of a number of records as a unit, such as the standing record for a ten-league forced march, the physical fitness exams, and even the combat acuity tests. Jarvan had run his men hard during training, but the men had taken it all and gobbled it up and asked for more.

Jarvan sighed to himself as he looked down the long room, a pang of pain and grief settling on his shoulders as the silence of the room caught up with him.

"It takes you back, doesn't it?" Vorscham leaned in the doorjamb of the room, watching Jarvan silently as the prince reminisced.

"It seems like only yesterday that Exemplar Company had only just been formed and had completed its training." Jarvan said softly, examining a soldier's uniform tunic as it hung on the end of a bedpost. "It's strange how little things have changed, and yet things still feel so distant."

"Time may have stopped for you, sir, but for the rest of us, the clock kept on ticking." Vorscham moved into the room, glancing around at the sorry state of the bunks. "I ought to go kick my platoon in the ass for leaving their quarters in this state." He sighed and shook his head, looking to Jarvan as he shook his head. "These new kids are used to the peace. They're not driven like we were when we were young."

"It can't be helped." Jarvan said, shrugging. "These may be the very best Demacia has to offer, but they're still just kids, most of them fresh out of the academy, right?" Vorscham nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"There aren't many veterans who have actually seen combat anymore." He shrugged. "Only the noncommissioned officers and some of the career troops are actual combat vets. The rest are greenhorns, even if they're the cream of the most recently graduated crop."

"Combat actions against Noxus ended after the ceasefire was signed, correct?" Jarvan said, looking to where Vorscham shifted from foot to foot, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his bad leg.

"Your incursion over the border and the subsequent operations were the last direct conflict we had with Noxus, aye." Vorscham said, his frown darkening. "Everything since then has been cloak and dagger games that stay out of the limelight. Some soldiers under my command remember when the news came back about you, but even then, most do their three years and got out. This newest lot isn't really much to talk about either." He scowled and shook his head.

"That's no way to talk about your own men." Jarvan said, chuckling, gesturing towards the door. He and Vorscham began walking through the halls slowly as they talked. "They're Demacians. It can only be so bad."

"There is a little bit of truth to that, yes, but I don't like it, sir." Vorscham said, shaking his head. "Times are changing and not for the better. We've been training harder and harder over the last few weeks, and our time spent training has almost doubled since you returned. My men have improved substantially, but I still have to wonder why all of this training and all of these preparations are necessary. Are we going to war, sir?" Vorscham stopped and turned to Jarvan, a serious glare on his face.

"Even I don't know, Proudmast." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "What I do know is that we are preparing for war, and soon, I will be marching to Kalamanda with my father." Jarvan's face was a grim mask. "I don't know what the city holds, but I fear that whatever it is, it won't be good. Even if we do not wish for war... I fear that war may be upon us."

"That explains some things, at least." Vorscham said, shaking his head and sighing. "Our weapons and armor recently got reissued and the new equipment is heavier than what is normal for a company of troops.

"How good are your troops, Proudmast?" Jarvan said seriously, returning a soldier's salute as the man snapped to attention as the prince and the Lieutenant passed.

"They're green but they're strong." Vorscham said, running his hand over his chin with a thoughtful frown. "Maybe not as good as we were, but close. They don't quite have the drive or the motivation, but they train hard and they perform extremely well." He had a thin smile. "A while back, my unit was chosen to demonstrate Demacian Martial Prowess to a panel of delegates from across Valoran. Officially, two of my three units cleared the killing house in record times, the third was only a few seconds short."

"Standardized room clearing or random?" Jarvan said with a grin, looking over at the lieutenant. "The record only counts if it was randomized as per the academy guidelines."

"We randomized it and then ran all three platoons through separately as a bit of a competition." He chuckled. "They beat the academy record. Your record."

"Room clearing can be fun." Jarvan said, remember how he had set the Killing House record when he had led an understrength squad through the stage. "Who was it? You, Garen, I and a few of the others, right?" Vorscham nodded, grinning thinly. "I remember that now." Jarvan chuckled, shaking his head. "And unofficially? Who holds the actual record?" Jarvan grinned, narrowing his eyes as he waited for the Lieutenants answer.

"Shyvana completely blitzed the record when she garnered the attention of one of the diplomats." Vorscham shook his head. "Seven fucking seconds." Vorscham said, shaking his head. "She also completely ruined the stage, but had it been an official attempt, she would have held a record that could have never been broken."

"That's unfortunate..." Jarvan said with a grin lingering on his face.

"She surprised everyone, especially the king. I was speechless myself." Vorscham shrugged. "She's strong and brash, much like you, but she is still untrained and she doesn't know how to use her strength."

"Then we must teach her." Jarvan said, nodding his head and sighing. "I'm going to be relying on you, Proudmast. You've done well so far, but she needs the experience. I want you to help me give it to her. She has the strength, but she needs the experience that only real combat can give."

Vorscham frowned momentarily, but finally sighed. "I'll do what I can to see that she does not have any rest, but it is just as you say, my lord, it is experience that only combat can give. It takes many warriors years to see enough combat to garner enough experience to join the ranks of the elite. She has power and promise but she is green, Jarvan."

"So help me fix that!" Jarvan said, grabbing Vorscham's shoulder and grappling it. "You and I can train her in the art of war! Please, Proudmast, I'm asking this as a friend, not as your prince."

Vorscham cast him a withering gaze, a frown lingering on his face, but he relented, his shoulders slumping and his head hanging. "Fine." Vorscham grunted, shaking his head. "I will do my best, but do not expect me to go easy on her."

"I thank you, friend." Jarvan said, nodding.

"You might not when I'm done." Vorscham said, running a hand over his jaw. "How long do we have to prepare?"

"I wish to have it set by the time we are to leave for Kalamanda." Jarvan said, grimacing. "It is not long, I know."

"That's less than two weeks!" Vorscham shook his head, taking a step back. "You do not ask for hope, you ask for a miracle."

"You speak as though it is impossible." Jarvan growled. "I have faith in her strength, and Alicia does as well. Why do you not see it?"

"I've said this before, I do not doubt her strength nor her willpower." Vorscham said, shaking his head and sighing. "I doubt her experience. You know it as well as I do, Jarvan, she's aggressive and ambitious, but that aggression often works against her. For every step she takes forward, she takes a step backwards. She is learning to fight, but were it not training, she would be wounded twice... even thrice as often as she has already suffered. That is not something you can teach over night!"

"She shall learn!" Jarvan assured Vorscham. "I have faith."

"Faith does not win fights." Vorscham muttered, shaking his head. "Fine. We'll do it your way."

"Thank you, friend." Jarvan said, clapping his shoulder with a broad grin. "You have my appreciation."

"I had that once before and look where it got me." Vorscham muttered, rolling his eyes. His hand played over the side of his face, but he shook his head and gestured for Jarvan to follow. "Come. We have much to do." He picked up his pace, heading for the training courtyard, Jarvan following after him, steel boots clicking on stone floors.

"Proudmast, do you still blame me for what happened?" Jarvan said, frowning as he grabbed the lieutenant's shoulder, forcing him to turn and face him. "Proudmast..."

"I hold you in no ill will, sir, but were I to speak freely, I might have other words to say." Vorscham said with a thin grin. "You are an insufferable fuck whose head is far too big for your own good. It was back then and it still is now. You may not have given me this wound, but it was your decision to leave me behind while the rest of you marched to war. For that I will never forgive you." Vorscham shook his head and pulled away from Jarvan. "Now I am damned to this fate, training soldiers for as long as I have this fucking limp." He pulled away from Jarvan, shaking his head and grumbling to himself. "We have training to do. Come." Jarvan started to open his mouth to speak, but he finally shook his head and snapped his jaw shut, following Vorscham through the building.

* * *

"A lance is a difficult weapon to fight against if you do not know how to deal with it." Alicia said, frowning. "You have two options when you do not have a weapon of equal or longer range: Close the distance and force them to change weapons, or disarm the lance user."

"Most lance users carry more than one weapon?" Shyvana said, frowning slightly.

"Most do, though some don't." Alicia said, shrugging. "Xin and Jarvan don't actually carry a secondary weapon, though I believe the prince carries a knife or two with him when he fights."

"So what happens when I get within range of a lance user who doesn't have another weapon?" Shyvana said, raising an eyebrow.

"Both Jarvan and Xin will know how to handle a lance in close quarters." Alicia said, shrugging. "But they also use very different styles of fighting when it comes to lances."

"Jarvan's lance is bladed and he uses it to both cut and crush, where Xin seems to favor a more thrust heavy approach, correct?" Shyvana held a spear in hand, examining the long barreled weapon, turning it over in her hand as she looked it up and down. Again, the standard Demacian spear was nowhere near as heavy as Jarvan's lance; it wasn't light though. She grimaced as she spun the weapon in a flourish, turning it end of end in hand as she'd seen Jarvan do once before, letting the bladed tip carve a path of a bent infinity loop through the air. As the blade came back around and then started to swing up over Shyvana'a head, she brought it down and across her body is a great, sweeping stroke, extending her reach as far as she could.

"You learn fast." Alicia said with a grin. "Jarvan and Xin's fighting styles exemplify the two main fighting styles of lances in open combat. Traditionally, lances and pikes were used as defensive weapons against charging cavalry, with massively long shafts to give the infantry as much space as possible to defend their lines when the charge came. It was all about letting the cavalry impale themselves, charging on an out stretched weapon."

"That's brutal..." Shyvana said, looking at the sharpened tip of the weapon and grimacing.

"War seldom is not brutal." Alicia said, shaking her head. "But back to the point. Jarvan wields his lance more like a glaive than a lance, spear or pike. But his weapon is also one of a kind and quite deadly in that respect."

"What is the difference between a lance, a spear and a pike?" Shyvana said, holding her weapon at the ready and looking at Alicia. The gunny sat perched on the low wall that surrounded the open training ring in the courtyard. She had a whetstone in her lap as she sharpened a sword, examining the blade with every swipe of her sharpening stone.

"Well, a pike is for defense against horses." Alicia said, frowning slightly. "The weapon is usually fifteen or more feet long, and it is extremely cumbersome. It is really only of use in massed numbers, when an army charges or is charged against on the open field of battle. It can be used against horses or men, and it is good for impaling, but not for swinging. It's usually a simple weapon made in great numbers that is discarded when the lines reach one another, if it is not broken within the first few seconds of two military forces meeting. A pike is usually carried with a sword and then a small shield, smaller than a buckler, called a manifer, that can be used in open combat, but not impede a pikeman's use of his primary weapon. It's light in weight to make up for the massive size and cumbersome nature of a pike."

"A spear is a lighter weapon that is weighted to be thrown, and typically is the smallest of the three." Alicia said, cocking her arm back and making an overhand tossing motion. "It can also be used to stab and slash, though it usually only has a small bladed head, like that of an arrow, so using it to slash isn't really a realistic possibility for most users. If you are well trained with your weapon and you know the reach of it impeccably well, you _can_ use it to slash, but again, it's not really good for that. Because it is made to be thrown, it doesn't always have the same strength as a lance or pike and it can break easily if misused. This light weight and small size makes it good for quick, powerful stabbing motions to impale and gut enemies. It is designed to be used with either one or two hands, typically one handed in conjunction with a large shield as a front line soldier. Again, spear users often carry a sword or a short sword in reserve in case they have to throw their spear or it breaks in combat. A spear is extremely versatile, and while it does not have a distinctive fighting style of its own, there are hundreds of different adaptions of the same basic concepts: Thrusts, throws and swipes."

"Which leaves lances." Shyvana said, examining the weapon she carried in hand. She twirled the standard issue Demacian lance end over end, examining the weapon closely as she caught it in both hands, extending the weapon forward in a quick thrust and then sweeping down and then back up in and circular motion that could have easily beheaded an unsuspecting opponent. She froze, holding the lance high, her hands spread out along the barrel to give the power she needed to her swing. She exhaled as she came down from her stance, again examining the weapon. It was weighted surprisingly evenly, though there was a noticeable difference in the head and the actually shaft of the weapon, the tip of the weapon was much heavier. The lance's bladed head started at a sharpened point and gently curved backwards in a recurve, jutting out once in a barbed blade. It curved down again, the head continuing to grow wider as it reach down just under half the length of the entire weapon. The head was not solid metal, hollowed out in some places to improve the weight distribution. The glittering silver head was beautifully forged, and the steel was polished and razor sharp.

"Yes." Alicia said, nodding earnestly. "Lances have their origins with the cavalry and when jousting was a popular sport."

"My father spoke of how the courts of old would hold great jousting tournaments for the hand of a fair lady." Shyvana said, smiling lightly. "Men would come far and wide to compete for her hand, brave knights, seasoned warriors and even royalty would sometimes compete to see who was the strongest."

"Yes, lances were a chivalrous weapon, designed for one on one combat where both opponents faced each other, saluted, and then charged, aiming to knock the other from their horse, or even kill them." Alicia said, nodding as she continued to work the whetstone over her blade. "It may have been a chivalrous sport, but it was also brutal. Jousting used wooden lances that would splinter under so much force before impaling most men's armor, but that was a lance used for jousting. A modern lance is a bladed weapon, with two or four bladed sides encompassing the long head that often time comprised a third to half the length of the entire weapon. The lance traces its roots back to horse-based cavalry, giving riders the means to skewer and smash the enemy lines in a charge with the hopes that they would be able to strike their opponent before said opponent was able to get within reach of the horse or the rider. It could be thrown over short distances, but the weight of the reinforced shaft meant it wasn't much good for distance. Rather, the heavy weight and sharpened point was amazing for throwing from a charging horse to pierce shield and armor and flesh of the front lines, and then often continue straight through to the second line, or even the third in some case."

"That's not a wound you get up from." Shyvana shivered, looking at the weapon, imagining getting skewered by the broad head through steel armor and then having it completely tear through her and into whoever stood behind her. Alicia nodded.

"In the olden days, hundreds and hundreds of years past, after the fall of the last great Ruined King, Demacia wasn't much more than the collection of farmlands and villages that made up much of the western continent of Valoran." She raised her blade up, examining the length of the sword to ensure the blade had been sharpened to a straight edge. "What little standing army there was, mostly horsemen on loan for the regional lords and their own defensive troops, was comprised of cavalry. It was designed to be a mobile fighting force that could react to attacks and bolster the outer villages, not a standing army like today. Though, back then our enemies were just as disorganized as we were, so the threat largely came from land disputes and roving bandits, sometimes foreigners, sometimes disillusioned remnants of the Ruined King's army." She shrugged. "As Demacia evolved, eventually there was need for a standing army. While little remnants of it show today, the heavy Demacian usage of lances harkens back to those days."

"It's amazing that a tradition like that has survived this long." Shyvana said, examining the spear she held in hand. "Is there no longer cavalry that uses spears?"

"Demacia maintains a surprising amount of cavalry, compared to the other states in Valoran." She said thoughtfully. "Though with the advent of mechanical weapons such as crossbows, and the widespread adoption and militarization of magic, Cavalry has faded slightly for many nations that used to maintain cavalry in the past."

"It was the first of the Rune wars that brought about the change, was it not?" Shyvana said, her brow creasing slightly.

"Yep." Alicia nodded in response, sheathing her sword and leaning forward to look at Shyvana. "Tales tell of how great spells lit the sky with every color of the rainbows, cast from miles apart, aimed at completely exterminating entire armies at once. As the spells grew stronger, so did the barriers that were designed to protect against them. Magicians and sorcerers labored endlessly to fashion the largest and most devastating attacks, and the worst of them were capable of leveling entire cities from hundreds of miles away. But barrier spells grew stronger too, and it devolved into battles of attrition. Whoever could hold their barrier the longest or who could throw the most magic at the enemy until exhaustion wore the mages out. When the smoke and magic had cleared, armies charged each other to make war on the field of battle, charging over smoking, cratered fields and the charred remnants of those unable to mine appropriate defenses. It was a horrifying waste of time and energy." Alicia shook her head, frowning.

"Is that why the Institute of War was formed? To monitor and limit such uses of magic?" Shyvana said, leaning on her lance now as Alicia lectured on the history of war in Valoran.

"The institute was actually formed after the conclusion of the third and last of the Rune wars." She said, a deathly serious glare on her face. "More and more powerful magics had been created year after year, every side looking for some way to defeat the enemy soundly, rather than the wasteful habits of an endless war of attrition. New types of magic called 'breaker-spells' were discovered shortly before the third Rune War. Breaker-spells were designed to attack the user of the magic by breaking barriers or channeling through the magic of the user being attacked. It was horrifyingly effective, rendering thousands of magicians and sorcerers dead or powerless. But that wasn't the worst part." Alicia frowned but pushed on with her story. "There were side effects to this 'breaker magic'. It completely destroyed anything it touched, and even the smallest uses were capable of destroying entire cities if cast wrong. Hundreds of thousands died in the fighting, and there was so much mutually assured destruction, that both parties finally declared a cease fire to stop the breaker magic from killing and destroying anything else." She shook her head and sighed. "Not long after, the Institute of War was formed to regulate and settle disputes without causing undue harm to the people of Valoran, or Runeterra herself."

"This breaker magic... does anyone use it today?" Shyvana said softly, leaning towards Alicia from where she had sat on the wall next to her.

"It's considered a taboo, and it is banned among all of the city states. It is not easy magic to master, so only the largest of the city-states were ever able to wield it, so I do not believe it survives to this day." Alicia said shrugging. "Some historians believe that the city of Icathia and the deserts of Shurima were once a vibrant paradise of temperate farmlands and lush valleys that were destroyed millennia ago by the use of breaker magic employed to defend against an onslaught of dragons that threatened to besiege the entire nation."

"Kampf led that attack." Shyvana said, looking to the ground and frowning. "For seventy days and seventy nights he lay siege to the cities of Shurima, though my father never spoke of why the siege ended. I believe it was also the origins of why dragon kind hated human kind so much, but he would never tell me."

"That was the dragon you and Jarvan slew, correct?" Alicia said, wide eyed in wonder. Shyvana nodded her head. "I have to think that would have been the origin of the hostilities. If rumor and conjecture is true, then the siege was lifted when Shurima mages used breaker magic to devastate the attacking dragons. They lifted the siege... but they also destroyed the entirety of their country and much of dragon-kind. It was a whole-sale slaughter. Had it not been for the belt of mountains formed by the great barrier, all of Valoran could have been destroyed."

"I suppose that fits all of the little bits my father left out of his stories." Shyvana said frowning. "I never took you as a historian, Alicia." Shyvana said, glancing at the young woman. Alicia blushed lightly and glanced away.

"I like history." She said with a shrug. "Most people don't really share my enthusiasm, so I usually keep it to myself."

"I think it's interesting." Shyvana said bumping her shoulder against the gunny's shoulder.

"How did we even get on that subject?" Alicia said, shaking her head and grinning sheepishly.

"We were talking about lances and it turned to cavalry and then magic." Shyvana said, standing up and stretching, raising the lance above her head."

"Right..." Alicia said, nodding. "Lances. Well now that you've got a good grasp on why we use them, we can actually get to how we use them." She laughed lightly and Shyvana smiled, stepping back into the arena. "A lance combines the slashing of a glaive, but also the stabbing and the possibility of throwing like a spear. It is also a much sturdier weapon than a spear, made to withstand repeated swiping or slashing blows. It is similar to an ax in that respect, where it is a heavy weapon made for slashing and maiming, but it is also decidedly less brutal and more utilitarian than that of an ax."

"I see..." Shyvana said, frowning slightly.

"Demacia uses swords and lances as her primary weapons for the field of battle." Alicia said with the nod of the head continuing on. "Demacian lances are not weighted for a horizontal carry like that of a jouster's weapon, rather they tend to be weighted for heavy strikes and attacks where the weapon is used to slash and maim, where the heavier weight of one end proves to be useful. Jarvan uses that to his advantage. That's why most of his attacks tend to be slashes and crushing blows that come from high, down across his body. Xin uses a more traditional fighting style of linear assaults and unrelenting attacks. Where Jarvan looks to smite a foe with a single, exceedingly powerful attack that breaks through their guard, Xin wears them down by attacking so many times he finally finds a chink in their armor."

"His attacks were powerful and direct." Shyvana said, frowning.

"Xin knows that to let the battle drag on for too long means that eventually you would have the upper hand." Alicia said, shaking her head. "I think he recognizes his age and your youth and power. If you can drag the fight out long enough, it will turn in your favor as he tires."

"How long will that take?" Shyvana asked.

"Hmm..." Alicia shrugged. "An hour maybe? It could be as short as twenty minutes, but Xin rarely lets his opponents last longer than a few minutes. If you get past that... it's anyone's bet what could happen."

"So how do I get to that point?" Shyvana said, frowning.

"That's where we come in." Jarvan said as he stepped out of the barracks, a smile on his face as he looked to Shyvana. "Vorscham and I are going to be putting you through your paces to try and subject you to as much combat as possible over the next few weeks. When we're done, you should be able to take Xin on and go toe to toe with him long enough to overpower him."

"It's strange to see you back in your armor after so long." Shyvana said softly, looking the prince up and down as he stepped into the arena.

"I had to get a few things patched, but it still fits me just like a glove." Jarvan said, nodding. He enfolded her in a hug and then looked down at her armor. "Hopefully Poppy will be done with your armor soon, as well. That will always help."

"I hope so." Shyvana said, her hand hesitating over her chest. "He managed to pierce straight through the chest piece. Any deeper and he would have gone straight through me."

"I saw the holes." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "Now then. Who do you want to go against first, Vorscham or I?"

"Umm..." Shyvana frowned.

"Let me go first." Vorscham said, holding his hand out for the lance that Shyvana held. She handed it over and nodded, moving over to the wall and pulling on her gauntlets. "I fight a bit closer to a traditional lancer style than the prince." He said, shrugging. "Besides, I bet she wants a chance to get back at me for the first time I wiped the floor with her ass." He chuckled gutturally and limped into the middle of the arena, holding the lance at his side.

"I had completely forgotten about that." Shyvana said, shaking her head and grinning as she tightened the last enarme over her forearm, her hands settling over the leather wrapped iron handgrips. She stepped into the arena opposite him and grinned at Vorscham. She kept one hand slightly behind the line of her shoulders, only exposing one of her shoulders to him as she gently rocked from foot to foot, settling her feet into a fighting stance. She kept her other arm, the left one with the manifer, forward of her body in a mid-body blocking position. She bowed her head to Jarvan and then Vorscham, flames bursting to life on the buckler, as if molten fire was pouring from the metal dragon's mouth and eyes.

"Good, the first part of the duel is always a salute to the official and then your opponent." Vorscham said, raising his own lance into his fighting position. He raised the shaft of the lance up over his shoulder, only offering the dragoness a single shoulder as a target area. The heavy pauldron wouldn't prove easy to break through as far as armor went, and then she still had to deal with the range of his lance. Swept back at a shallow edge, the lance served as a wedge that allowed Vorscham to deflect targets upwards and to the sides, sweeping them off rather than having to take them head on with matched force. Shyvana started to pace slowly, thinking of how best to approach the defensive position.

"You may begin." Jarvan announced, stepping back towards the wall and Alicia to watch, one fist posted on his hip and then other on his lance in case he had to sweep in and stop the fight. "Who is your money on?" Jarvan quietly asked Alicia.

"It depends on who attacks first." Alicia said, frowning. "If Shyvana does, she may lose the fight early, but I think Vorscham's patience will hold out a bit better than hers."

"I have to agree." Jarvan murmured, watching as Shyvana stalked around Vorscham, the Lieutenant only pivoting in place rather than matching her pacing. "She's looking for an opening. Let's see if she gets suckered in by Vorscham's trap."

"You're not charging in blindly." Vorscham said aloud, continuing to keep his lance tip down along the ground and pointed at the dragoness. "It's good to see that you've learned something from these past few months."

"I know when to brawl and I know when to wait." Shyvana said softly, keeping her guard raised. "I'm also trying to judge my strength against yours to see if I can take you in a flat out fight at this point."

"Well here I am." Vorscham said, grinning. "Come and get me... or maybe you're too afraid?"

"A month ago I would have taken the bait." Shyvana said with a thin smile. "Even a week ago I would have charged you with the intent of making you eat your words and my fist, but now I won't be goaded so easily." She laughed lightly, but didn't take her eyes off of him. She stopped and started to pace back around, going the opposite direction this time. Vorscham continued to match her, but there was a little more effort this time as he lead with the gimped leg, his turns weren't quite as smooth. "I also noticed you've stopped calling me Chickadee."

"I personally think you've earned your place." Vorscham grinned. "But if you keep this chickenshit pacing up, I might just have to give you a new nickname." His foot hit the ground and he limped slightly, and Shyvana launched her attack.

A ball of fire with a head like a dragon cut through the air as Shyvana charged, flames cloaking her legs as she accelerated on a bed of heat. Vorscham snarled as he brought the lance up and slapped the bolt of flames out of the air. It exploded in a shower of fire and sparks as Shyvana came in low and fast, arcing her run and leaning into the turn as she started to bring her gauntlet up in a rising strike aimed at Vorscham's stomach. He hissed, sweeping a leg back to brace himself as he swung the lance back down towards Shyvana's head. She parried with her manifer, bouncing the lance up and taking Vorscham by surprise as sparks bounced along the ground, the dragoness dragging it up the length of Vorscham's lance to keep it high and out of the way.

He gritted his teeth and then swung the lance up as Shyvana brought her fist up to his stomach, dropping his high arm down to knock the manifer aside. The elbow guard on his vambrace bounced the manifer down slightly as he windmilled his lance up and about, sweeping the shaft around and down, striking Shyvana high on the arm. She hissed but took the strike, following through and landing a punch that glanced off Vorscham's chest plate as he turned. Shyvana rolled, taking some of the force of Vorscham's lance and rolling into it, using the momentum of her charge to roll away and get clear. She landed on her feet and threw another bolt of flame at Vorscham, charging behind it again.

Vorscham tried to sweep the flames aside again with his lance as he did before, but he wasn't going to be able to bring the lance across quick enough to swipe the flames from the air. He kicked backwards and landed on his bad leg, sinking down slightly further than he meant to as the flames passed just in front of him, pain playing across his face. He tried to let his leg drop to turn the momentum into a spin to orient him for her attack, but she was too close. He gritted his teeth as the first strike landed in his side, the Lieutenant expelling a breath, _hard_. A second blow landed quickly in almost the same spot, followed by a lightning quick follow up blow, as if he had been hit once and then twice more instantly. He snarled in pain as he tried to back away, but Shyvana, flames swirling around her, kept close to him, following as he swept backwards, trying to catch his breath and back away. Shyvana was unrelenting, pouring fiery blow after fiery blow into his guard, but he was only able to parry some of them with his lance. He continued to back away, desperate for a bit of range to bring his guard back up, but he was on the back foot and Shyvana had an immense advantage at this close range.

"She's pressing hard." Alicia said, a smile on her face. "She really doesn't want to give him a chance to counterattack or reform his defenses."

Jarvan nodded, watching Shyvana practically chase Vorscham around the ring. "She's attacking in a set pattern though." Jarvan murmured, frowning slightly. "Which means she's either trying to force Vorscham's hand or she's lost in the moment."

Shyvana forced Vorscham back past the two observers and Jarvan shook his head, grinning slightly. "After seeing the look on her face, I'm a bit inclined to believe it's the second of the two."

"What, you don't like fighting as much as she does?" Alicia said, nudging the prince in the side. "Or perhaps you've got something else you wish she approached with as much enthusiasm..." She giggled as the prince blushed slightly.

"Funny." He muttered, watching as Shyvana continued her assault. "She's playing at something here." Jarvan narrowed his eyes, watching the dragoness's rapid attacks and hard press. _Just what are you planning, Shyvana..._

Shyvana struck with a hard left, Vorscham swinging his lance up in time to bat it aside as Shyvana stepped forward to try and get inside his guard circle. She attacked with a quick right, letting flames billow around the buckler as she struck, casting the flames across Vorscham's guard. He had caught the blow with the shaft of the lance, but Shyvana was already bringing up another attack to strike at his stomach. Vorscham brought his hands apart and dropped the lance, sweeping down and across the try and catch both Shyvana's attack and her legs as she finally varied her attacking pattern.

Shyvana stopped dead in her tracks, extending her leg and sinking to the ground as she brought her arms across her chest. The head of Vorscham's lance cracked over her pauldrons and bounced along her arm guards, Vorscham taking the brief moment of respite to put a few steps distance between them as Shyvana dropped to the ground. _What are you..._

Flames exploded from Shyvana's hands as she launched herself upwards, kicking off with her rear leg to launch the attack forwards rather than just up, her body rotating about her hips. She uncrossed her arms and she ended the flames from the gauntlet, starting her spinning, Vorscham brought his lance up across his body to guard against the attack, bracing as Shyvana let her gauntlet sweep out. She slammed the gauntlet onto Vorscham's formed guard, the force of the blow staggering the lieutenant as she brought the gauntlet down like a wrecking ball, her arm swinging around her body.

Vorscham's lance snapped.

_What!?_

He slid backwards along the ground, trying to keep the distance, but Shyvana had already landed and had spun about, coming up. Her gauntlet landed squarely on Vorscham's chest, winding him and sending him arcing through the air. He landed on the ground with a heavy thud, the two sections of his lance bouncing to the ground around him.

"How..." He gasped for breath, his chest burning as he greedily sucked in breaths, trying to return oxygen to his lungs.

Shyvana stepped up, standing over him, flames pouring off her gauntlets menacingly. Her chest rose and fell much more calmly than he would have thought and there was a wild look in her eyes. She started to raise a hand up and Vorscham closed his eyes, expecting another blow, but after several long seconds, it never came. He opened his eyes and looked up as Shyvana pulled her gauntlet off and extended a gloved hand down to him. He blinked in surprise but took it, his entire body aching now. Shyvana hauled him to his feet, grinning as he staggered and nearly toppled over.

"Easy there, LT." Shyvana said, shaking her head as she draped his arm over her neck and helped him to the wall, lowering him down to the stone. "You alright? I think I hit you a bit harder than I meant to."

"I'll say." Vorscham wheezed, undoing the buckles on that bound his cuirass together, pulling it off and finally taking a deep breath. "God fucking damn." He said after several long, deep breaths. "I couldn't breathe."

"No wonder." Alicia said, eyeing the cuirass. The chest piece had been crumpled in around his chest and while it had absorbed some of the blow, it had also been crushing down around his chest. "She obliterated this thing." Alicia cast the ruined cuirass aside, shaking her head. "I'm going to have to deal with the paperwork on that now, as well as the lance." She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Thanks, Shy."

"Sorry." The dragoness said, blushing slightly. "I kinda got a bit ahead of myself."

"I'll say." Jarvan said, chuckling. He set a hand on the top of Shyvana's head affectionately, grinning as he looked down at the dragoness. "I don't think I've ever seen a fight quite as ferocious as that. It was well fought." She blushed a deeper shade of red but she smiled happily.

"I do believe you got your revenge." Vorscham said, wincing as he ran a hand over his mail hauberk. "I'm probably going to have a bruise on my entire damn chest from that." He grunted and shook his head, wincing again. "God damn that hurt."

"Sorry, sir." Shyvana said meekly.

"Nah, don't be." Vorscham said after a few moments, grinning slyly as he eyed the shattered lance and then looked up to Shyvana and then the prince. "I was wrong, prince..." He looked back to Shyvana, wearing a confident smile. "If you keeps this up, you're going to smoke Xin."


	35. Chapter 34: Excercise

"Good afternoon, your highness." The Guard at the front doors of palace barracks bowed to the prince. "How can I help you this evening?"

"Has Victoria Company finished its training exercises for today?" Jarvan said, looking over as a pair of soldiers emerged from the main doorway. They saluted informally, and Jarvan responded in kind, nodding his head as they passed.

"I believe they're in process of winding down now." The guard said, looking in the doorway. "Lieutenant Vorscham is expecting you sir. Please, go on in."

"Thanks." Jarvan said, nodding to the young guard as he stepped past, into barracks, his bodyguard following him in as well, checking back over her shoulder to see if they were being followed. "Hey Del, I have a question." She blinked a few times as she looked over at the prince in surprise.

"Of course, sir." She said, nodding her head. "What's up?"

Jarvan frowned slightly. _I need to ask Shyvana to the ball, but I have no idea how._ Jarvan stepped around a pair of guardsmen as they snapped to attention and saluted Jarvan. He returned it as he passed, frowning slightly. _I suppose I could just straight up ask her._ He shook his head and frowned. _No, that's not romantic at all._

"Sir?" Delancey said aloud, looking to Jarvan, slightly concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Huh?" Jarvan shook his head, trying to clear his mind as he stood up a bit straighter as he knocked another soldier down, sending a young man crashing to the ground. "Sorry, sorry." Jarvan grumbled, extending a hand to the young man.

"Oh, excuse me your highness!" A soldier said, scrambling to his feet, saluting promptly and then ducking away, just about breaking into a run as he retreated.

"I think he's scared." Delancey said, chuckling. "Maybe it was your face?" The prince scowled at her as he shook his head, looking over his shoulder after the trooper who had scampered away.

"Just like that." Del said, chuckling. "Anyways, you had something to ask me?"

"Um, how goes your training with Forsythe?" Jarvan asked, looking straight ahead, refusing to look at Delancey. She glared at him accusingly. _She can tell that wasn't the right question._

"Pretty good." Delancey said, sighing and shrugging. "Forsythe is surprisingly good with his depth perception despite the fact he's just got one eye."

"I believe he spent most of his time in the hospital trying to overcome that." Jarvan said, frowning slightly. He shrugged. "Knowing Forsythe, I would be willing to bet he had a hard time sitting still through most of that, even despite all of the medical procedures and the various different doctors he had to see constantly." Delancey nodded.

"He's a really good fighter, even better than I am." She looked almost angry at that and Jarvan chuckled softly.

"Jealous?" Jarvan said, grinning.

"Not really." Delancey shrugged "I've tried to figure out where he learned to fight so well, but he doesn't really seem to want to talk about it. Sometimes I can get little things out of him but not very much."

"He's had a hard life." Jarvan said, shrugging. "But he's always been a strong fighter, something he picked up early on."

"And he plays dirty, too." Delancey muttered as they passed through the building. "He has more little tricks than I ever thought possible." She growled, shaking her head. "I haven't won against him once."

"Flash a little skin." Jarvan said, grinning mischievously. "That'll catch him off guard long enough for you to land a knockout blow. He may be a seasoned warrior, but he's still a young man in a lot of ways."

"I don't want to whore my way to a victory, sir." Delancey mumbled, rolling her eyes.

"Maybe try a feint?" Jarvan said, shrugging. "Feint towards his blind side, wait for him to over correct to make up for the lack of vision and then attack from the strong side?"

"That might work..." Delancey said thoughtfully. "I'll have to give it a try next time."

"Do so and see if it works." Jarvan said, nodding and laughing. "And if that doesn't work you can always-..."

"Not going to happen." Delancey said, rolling her eyes. "Who'd you pick that idea up from anyways?"

"Shyvana." Jarvan said innocently, watching as the sergeant slowed to a surprised halt. "Not intentionally, mind you."

"Shyvana did that?" Delancey said, blinking. "I would have never thought she would have been capable of something like that..." Jarvan shrugged and grinned as they emerged from the barracks into the courtyard. Vorscham stood off to the side of the arena, a short officer that Jarvan didn't recognize standing beside him. Alicia and Shyvana were in the arena, sparring.

"How goes it, Lieutenant?" Jarvan asked, stepping up beside Vorscham.

"Good evening, your highness." Vorscham said, stiffly, gesturing to the officer standing next to him. "I believe you know Major James Seymour?" The officer had his hair greased and slicked back over the top of his head, dark eyes that were beady and bounced around as if he had nowhere to look in particular but as if he wanted to look everywhere at once. His back was just barely stooped and he had a long nose and pronounced cheekbones that stretched his skin a bit too tightly over his face. He bowed gracefully deep, and held the bow for an exaggerated length of time before he stood up again and extended his hand to the prince.

"I've heard so much about you, your highness." Seymour said graciously, smiling. Jarvan tried not to snicker; when the short little man smiled, he looked deceptively like a rat. Jarvan extended his hand, accepted the officer's, and shook, afraid he might snap his wrist and crush his hand if he did more than give it the lightest of squeezes. "It's always a pleasure to meet someone of importance, sire. I trust you've been pleased with the time you've been spending here in the barracks over the last few days?" Jarvan caught Vorscham as he rolled his eyes, and had to grin.

"Of course, major." Jarvan said officiously. "I have noticed that you run a tight ship around here and I've been very pleased. You obviously do a good job to take care of your men." Another exaggerated eye roll from the lieutenant.

"Of course." Seymour said, bowing his head in recognition. "I do try my hardest to make sure my troops and officers have everything they need to do their duty to the fullest."

"Good." Jarvan said, nodding. "I take it you have everything you need to do _your _duty as well?"

"Well, I believe I do..." Seymour said, obviously trying to think of something as quickly as he could. "Well there is on-..."

"Good, good." Jarvan mused, taking pleasure in cutting off the officer as he started to speak. "Please, if there is anything, anything at all that I can do that will make Shyvana's time here easier, please just let me know. I trust she hasn't been problematic for you at all?"

"Of course not!" Seymour said, waving his hands in front of his face. "She has been an amazing addition to the unit that I've been able to utilize to the fullest. She brings a wealth of strength and she has exceeded in a number of situations where someone of a more … normal variety would not have been able to. I do say, I find the king's decision to keep her here in my unit to be a rather grave mistake, sir!" Seymour said, a smile starting to spread on his face as he pressed his hands together again.

"I'm glad you do, major." Jarvan said, nodding sagely. "I'll make sure to mention that next time I see my father. I'm sure he'd love to hear your analysis of the situation! I would really appreciate the support."

The major's face paled noticeably, and he swayed slightly as if he was a tree getting buffeted by the wind. "Sir, that's really not necessary..." The major said, bowing his head slightly and trying to appear as if he was groveling.

"Nonsense, Major!" Jarvan said, smiling broadly as he clapped the major on the shoulder. "I'll be sure to make sure he knows it was you! Now if you don't mind, I'd like to speak to the Lieutenant."

"O-o-of course..." Seymour stammered, bowing slightly and then stepping away, tottering with every step he took. Jarvan and Vorscham waited until the major had left the quad and then burst out laughing together. Vorscham had tears in his eyes as he laughed, staggering backwards.

"D-d-did... you... see... his... face?" Vorscham gasped, practically crying now as he slumped down on the wall.

"I don't think we've ever gotten a reaction as good as that before... even in the academy." Jarvan said, running a hand over his face as he grinned.

"I just... holy fuck." Vorscham said, his chest heaving as he shook his head and wiped the tears away. "Oh man, good times. Good times." Vorscham stood up straight and ran his hands over his uniform tunic, straightening it out as he fought to control his beaming smile. "Now, what can I do for you, sir?"

"I'm just watching for now." Jarvan said, a grin still lingering on his face as he gestured to the center of the ring. "How long have they been going at it?"

Vorscham shrugged, pulling a pocket watch out and looking at the time. "A bit more than an hour of drills. They only just started open combat." Jarvan nodded thoughtfully, watching the fight with interest.

Alicia charged, bringing the lance around in a sweeping strike aimed to bring Shyvana's guard up high and right. Shyvana responded as intended, bringing her buckler up next to her face as she swept in to strike, but Alicia dropped her foot back and brought the spear in under her arm, ducking slightly and then exploding upwards, driving the lance upwards towards Shyvana's chest. The dragoness turned slightly, sliding a foot back as the lance skirted her chest plate, screeching against the steel and bouncing away as Shyvana snarled. She brought an arm down and locked the gunny's lance up, keeping it stuck against her chest, one of the barbs of the lance's blade hooked across the back of Shyvana's dragonhead gauntlet. Shyvana dropped her arm, bracing her rerebrace against the head of the lance, holding it firm against her chest plate under her arm.

Alicia blinked a few times, surprised as she grinned. Shyvana drew her left arm back to power into an underhand strike aimed for Alicia's gut, or at least force the gunny to drop the lance. Shyvana grinned as one of the gunny's hands dropped away and she started to lever the lance across her body to jerk the lance out of the dragoness's grasp, but a flare of orange light caused her to freeze. Shyvana rolled backwards as a ball of fire exploded up and over her shoulder, just barely singeing a strand of hair that fell along the side of her face.

"Hey, that's cheating!" Shyvana shouted, coming up in a kneeling stance, her manifer pressed against the ground to support herself, the dragonhead buckler raised back. Alicia gave her a pretty smile, her red eyes dancing as she spun the lance and tucked it under her arm, a fireball dancing in her hand.

"You thought you were the only one who could use fire magic, eh?" Alicia said, grinning, the ball of fire dancing on her hand. Shyvana snarled as fire flared around her buckler and she extended her arm towards Alicia, sending a ball of fire in the shape of a dragon snapping out at Alicia. The gunny grinned and raised an arm across her body, a wall of blue hexagons springing to life in front of her. They flared a brilliant royal blue as the flames splashed harmlessly over her shield. Alicia dropped the shield as Shyvana leaped at her, arcing through the air, her fist raised back for a vicious strike. Alicia slid two steps backwards to let Shyvana crash to the ground just in front of her, the gunny raising her lance back to jab the dragoness just as she landed. Shyvana snarled, rolling and sucking in a deep breath, exhaling a cloud of flame explosively, sending her rolling away out of reach of Alicia's lance. Shyvana bounced along the ground several times before she caught herself, sticking a foot out to stop her roll. She skidded up onto her knees, immediately raising her guard to defend against an incoming attack, but Alicia stood back, the lance raised, wearing a wide grin.

"That was a fun trick." Alicia said, chuckling as she lowered herself into a fighting stance. "Can you breathe flames like that all the time?"

Shyvana coughed a small cloud of black smoke, bumping her chest with a fist twice and then exhaling another dark puff of smoke. She grimaced at the taste, smacking her lips. "I could if I wanted, but it's not very fun." She shook her head, sticking her tongue out. "It also tastes horrible."

Alicia let her head hang back as she laughed. "I suppose it does. Again?"

Shyvana nodded, and grinned. "Ready?"

Alicia tucked her arm back as fire danced in her hand, throwing it at Shyvana, the ball exploding in the air as Shyvana dived out of the way, rolled one and then sprinted in a circle, wrapping around Alicia. Flames welled in the palm of her buckler and Shyvana tossed out a ball of fire, the flames aimed directly at Alicia. She threw up the blue shield, the flames splashing over the barrier. Alicia dropped it and prepared for the attack from Shyvana, but the dragoness had cloaked her legs in flame, accelerating quickly in a circle around Alicia, almost all the way around her already. Shyvana ducked and came up at Alicia from low along the ground, letting her gauntlet drag along the dirt, leaving a trail of flames as she brought it up to attack. Alicia started to bring the barrier up but Shyvana was too close, and all Alicia could bring to bear was the lance. She braced for the impact and it came hard and true. The lance shattered inwards as Shyvana delivered the blow, practically launching Alicia into the air. She landed on both feet, clutching the two ends of the lance in hand. She started to get to her feet but Shyvana was already moving, charging relentlessly forward.

Shyvana kicked off, throwing herself at Alicia, arcing through the air, her arms both raised up and laced together. Alicia, ducked slightly, the blue barrier erupting in a dome over top of the gunny. Shyvana snarled, as flames cloaked her arms and she brought them down hard on the very top of the barrier. Shyvana snarled and poured flames into the top of the barrier trying to break through. There was a moment where it looked as if nothing was going to happen, but the barrier sunk a bit deeper into the ground, the blue hexagonal dome sparkling brightly as flames billowed around it, sending massive waves of heat and flame washing over Shyvana. She roared as she poured more of her power into the top of the barrier, trying to buckle the shield, but it did not budge. Shyvana raised her arm back and let a tornado of flames swirl around her fist and she brought it crashing down onto the top of the barrier. There was a moment where the barrier looked as if it were going to buckle, but the barrier pulsed brightly and then exploded, sending Shyvana cartwheeling through the air, end over end until she hit the ground. A wave of flames and a pressure wave passed over the entirety of the courtyard, shattering windows and sending out a thunderous crack.

Silence filled the courtyard, save for the tinkling of broken glass.

Jarvan and Vorscham picked themselves up off the ground from where the shockwave had bowled them over. Jarvan tried to blink the ringing in his ears away as he looked around, steam rising from everywhere, snow and ice almost instantly evaporated in the explosion.

"Well that was exciting." Delancey chirped, blinking a few times, eying the cloud of steam that enshrouded the area. She bounced to her feet with an excited smile on her face as she looked around, trying to peer through the smoke. She let a sour, disappointed frown slide onto her face when she couldn't see anything. "This smoke is annoying. I can't tell who won!" She started as the sharp crackle of breaking glass sounded from behind them.

"For fuck's sake." Vorscham growled, shaking his head and growling softly as he tugged himself up and leaned heavily on the wall of the arena. He winced as more tinkling glass echoed through the silent courtyard. "I fucking told her not to use that spell in the courtyard for that exact reason!"

"Has this happened before?" Jarvan asked with a grin as he pushed himself to his feet, shaking off the disorientation from the blast wave. Vorscham nodded with a soft grunt as he got to one knee, pain playing across his face as he started to push himself up.

"A few times." Vorscham grunted shaking his head. "And every time, Seymour chews my ass out."

"I'll have a chat with him." Jarvan chuckled, extending a hand to the Lieutenant. "So who won?" Vorscham shrugged, frowning as he tried to peer through the veil of steam. He looked at the hand Jarvan offered as if he regretted even needing help, but finally he grunted, ashamed, and he accepted the hand. Jarvan hauled the LT to his feet and patted him on the shoulder. A moment of disgrace and pain played over his face as he bumped his hand against his fist, grimacing. He inhaled sharply and then exhaled softly, opening his eyes and looking towards the center of the arena. A wide grin broke over his face as he pointed into the veil of steam.

"Take a look for yourself." Vorscham said with a grin.

"Looks like it was a draw." Delancey chuckled softly.

As the steam cleared, the scene unfolded in the very center of the arena. Alicia had collapsed onto the ground, one hand clutched at her chest as Shyvana stood over her, the dragonhead buckler aimed at Alicia's head. Jarvan started to open his mouth to inform Vorscham he was wrong but he realized that Alicia still clutched something in her other hand. She had planted the shattered end of the lance into the ground, the bladed head aimed directly up into Shyvana's stomach. Any closer and the dragoness would have impaled herself on the blade. Shyvana wore an excited grin, and though there was a smile on Alicia's face, her eyes were weary and pain played across her face as she clutched her heart. Her breathing was strained and labored as she winced, looking up at Shyvana.

"I don't know who won there." Shyvana said standing up and extending a hand to Alicia. The gunny accepted it graciously and let Shyvana pull her up to her feet.

"Well..." Alicia said, panting softly, a weak smile on her face, "I think we would have both been dead if that were a real fight, so I think we can call it a draw." Shyvana half carried the gunny over to the wall of the arena and lowered her down to rest.

"I'm impressed, I didn't expect you to be such a competent magic user." Shyvana said, grinning broadly. "That was a fun fight."

"I know a little bit of powerful magic, but it always drains me so fast..." She shook her head weakly as she took a few moments to catch her breath.

"That's because you always overdo it!" Vorscham growled, posting his fists on his hips, glaring down at the gunnery sergeant. "That's why you're still a gunnery sergeant in a training company and not a high level tactical sorceress!" His glare was angry, but he softened it slightly with a frown when Alicia looked sadly to the ground.

"That's not the only reason." She mumbled quiet enough that she obviously didn't want anyone to hear, but both Shyvana and Jarvan glanced at each other, surprised by the admission as Delancey crossed her arms over her chest, glaring back and forth between the three of them. "Proudmast..." He shook his head as she started to speak.

"I don't want any excuses." He said sternly. He caught Jarvan, Shyvana, and Delancey all glaring at him and he withered slightly, turning to look at Alicia as she glared at the ground, still clutching her chest. He tried to remain obstinate but he finally sighed and patted her twice on the head before turning away and crossing his arms over her chest. "You fought well though. Hell, you did a better job than I did."

Alicia blinked a few times as she looked up, surprise clear on her face. She cracked a smile and blushed slightly, the color in her cheeks standing out against her snowy white hair.

"Thank you, sir." She said meekly, dropping her gaze to her lap as more color flooder her cheeks. She stole a look at Shyvana, the dragoness grinning at her broadly. Delancey winked at the gunny when she looked to the sergeant and she blushed again, dropping her gaze.

"Now that you're done, gunny, can I borrow Shyvana for a few moments?" Jarvan asked after a few minutes.

"Of course, your highness." Alicia said weakly, still slightly winded, her voice sounding almost frail. "How about you step in and take over for me. Shyvana just keeps going and going and I'm worn out."

"Aww, we haven't been going that long." Shyvana said, grinning, the gunny rolling her eyes and laughing softly.

"Yeah, yeah." Alicia murmured. A sly grin spread on her face as she looked to the prince as Shyvana messed with her gauntlets. She leaned in towards the prince and elbowed him in the side. "Is she always like this? I bet it makes for fun evenings."

"Bite your tongue." Jarvan hissed, blushing slightly as he waved the gunny off. Alicia laughed aloud and shook her head, gesturing for him to get into the ring.

"Go on, take her down a peg." Alicia said, dropping down onto the wall. "I warmed her up for you."

"Now there's an image." Delancey muttered as she dropped onto the wall next to where Alicia sat. The two sergeants laughed aloud as Jarvan followed Shyvana into the arena, releasing the safety on his lance. He pressed on of the two buttons on the lance, looking up as the lance extended to its full length, spun, and then retracted with a clicking sound. It whirred for a moment and then clicked again, the weapon warming slightly in his hand.

"Not pulling any punches this evening, are we?" Shyvana said, smiling as Jarvan clicked the heel of his lance against his sabatons, making sure it had settled properly. The weapon whirred in response as he checked his lance over a few more times and then raised it up onto his shoulder, blushing slightly when Shyvana flashed him a smile and a glance that asked if he were finished.

"Not with you." Jarvan said, grinning lightly, lifting and dropping the lance a few times, letting the bladed pommel dig into the ground. "Considering I don't think that you will, should I try to hold back?"

"That hardly seems fun." Shyvana said, a mock pout on her face as she made sure her gauntlets had settled properly on her hands. She pulled the leather enarme tight across her vambraces with her teeth, an eager grin replacing her pouting lip.

"My thoughts exactly." Jarvan said, chuckling, glancing around, catching Vorscham's gaze and grinning. He turned back to Shyvana. "Shall we see if we can ruin this courtyard?"

Shyvana grinned imperiously, laying a hand across her chest and batting her eyes, feigning surprise. "The man after my own heart." She said teasingly, looking around the dusty circle of dirt and the low stone wall. "You know me so well."

"Just look out for rock walls this time." Jarvan said, running his hand along his neck where thin scars still marked the last time Shyvana had lost control of herself. "I must say, I really don't appreciate getting kicked through a slab of solid rock. It's really not very fun"

"Never gonna let me forget that, are you?" Shyvana said, shaking her head and grinning meekly.

"Not likely." Jarvan murmured as he matched her grin, blushing slightly as he raised his lance up and let it fall backwards, settling it on his shoulder. His smile fell slightly as he looked to the ground, color flooding his cheeks. "Hey Shyvana, if I win this fight... I want you to agree to something." Shyvana shifted from foot to foot, letting her gauntlets drop to her side, posting both on her hips with some effort as if she were cross, a moment of surprise playing over her face.

"I don't think you've ever asked me to do something that I haven't agreed to." Shyvana said, frowning slightly. She glared at the prince with a mix of curiosity and displeasure on her face. "Jarvan, if you have something to ask me, just go ahead and do it."

"Well..." Jarvan said, blushing and frowning slightly. "Would you..." He looked down at the ground and shook his head, scratching his cheek just below the steel cheekplate of his helmet. "Um..." Shyvana crossed her arms over her chest and grinned, watching the prince squirm in his boots, obviously enjoying watching Jarvan out of his element. She leaned heavily on one leg and raised an eyebrow, blushing slightly as she watched the prince frown, his lips moving slightly as he shifted from foot to foot with an uncertain frown.

"Something on your mind?" She said, chuckling softly. "This isn't like you, Jarvan."

"Give me a break." Jarvan said, rolling his eyes and exhaling heavily, frustration playing over his face. He glanced up at Shyvana, blushing lightly as she grinned, giggling at him, trying to hide her laughter behind her hand. "It's not something I've ever done before!"

"I have doubts that there's much you haven't done, Jarvan." Shyvana said, fitting the prince with an exacting glare. He seemed to wither slightly, still blushing as he glanced away, making a show of messing with his lance.

Jarvan mumbled something that Shyvana couldn't hear.

"You're going to have to speak up, Jarvan." Shyvana said frowning slightly. "I can't hear you."

Jarvan ran a hand over his head and scruffed his hair about furiously, grimacing. He brought his hand up and pointed his lance at Shyvana as if he were about to attack. Shyvana brought her guard up, but the fact that Jarvan's face was furiously blushed and the wild look in his eye caused her to dropped her guard slightly. He shook his head once, casting his black hair over his shoulder as he looked to her with determination on his face. "Shyvana, if I win, I want you to go to the Royal Ball with me!" Jarvan practically shouted, glaring at her fiercely, keeping his massive lance raised in a single hand.

"What?" Shyvana said, blushing deeply. Her mouth hung open as she blinked slowly, her hands falling to her sides. "Y-you... you..." She shook her head and stamped her foot, flames crackling along the ground as a thin cloud of dust billowed around her, her fists at her side as she glared at him accusingly. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"What?" Jarvan said, defensively as Shyvana hung her head, shaking it slowly, her red bangs dancing from side to side as she sighed. She looked up and glared at him with a frown that softened.

"You could have just asked." She said, rolling her eyes but a smile slid onto her face. She huffed once and then her frown deepened slightly, shaking her head again. "Have you never really asked a woman to a dance before? For some reason I highly doubt that."

"How do you figure that?" Jarvan said, still blushing slightly, but he softened his frown with a grin. "I may be royalty, but it's not like I'm exceedingly worldly either."

"Well I've never even been asked to a dance." Shyvana said, blushing slightly as she glanced away. "I've never actually been to a dance anyways. So I don't know." She turned away, swinging her hands at her side as if she were a little girl, an elfin grin on her face.

"Exactly." Jarvan said, chuckling slightly. "And yes, as surprising as it sounds, I've never actually had to ask someone to a dance before." Shyvana looked to him with doubt and a raised eyebrow. A mischievous grin slid onto Jarvan's face as he kicked his lance as if he expected the lance to have stopped working. "Usually they just flocked to me and I got to pick the best looking one of the bunch." Shyvana blinked a few times in surprise as both Delancey and Alicia laughed aloud, glaring at him with disbelief. Jarvan shrugged and chuckled nonchalantly. "Though I do think I lucked out and the best looking one found me anyways." Shyvana shook her head and pointed back at Jarvan, an ambitious smile on her face.

"I'm going to make you eat those words, Jarvan." Shyvana growled, though she wore a broad grin. "You better be ready to earn the right to take me to that dance, because now I'm _really_ going to lay into you!"

Alicia blushed and Delancey snickered from the sidelines as Shyvana realized what she had proclaimed aloud. Vorscham ran a hand over his face and turned away, shaking his head disapprovingly. Shyvana turned on Delancey who tried to hide her snickering but only made it more apparent that she had been laughing. "You shut up before I come over there!" She blushed furiously, turning back on Jarvan. "And I don't know what you're smiling about! You are _SO_ going down!" More snickering from the sidelines. "Damnit!" Shyvana shouted, flustered as both Alicia and Delancey burst into laughter this time. Delancey went top over teakettle and fell backwards off the wall, ending up in the dirt because she was laughing so hard.

"Delancey, you keep laughing and I'll bring you into the ring and let you enjoy being Shyvana's punching bag, okay?" Jarvan shouted with a bit of a chuckle, struggling to keep a straight face, blushing slightly as Shyvana glared at the ground, her shoulders tense and her face a bright red. "Hell, bring Forsythe with you and we can have a party." Jarvan dropped his lance, driving the sharpened point of the pommel into the ground, letting the lance stand tall in the packed soil. He adjusted one of his own gauntlets, cinching the leather band down tighter.

"Two on two?" Delancey said, appearing from behind the low stone wall, grinning as she finally picked herself up off the ground, leaning heavily on the wall for support. She brushed dust from her cloak. "You're on, but you've got to take Shyvana on first. You two sort out your unresolved sexual tension and then I'll see if Forsythe wants to fight. I don't much want to get between you two while that is still an issue."

"Yeah, yeah." Jarvan grumbled, running his hand through his hair. Shyvana shrugged but smiled at him, color in her cheeks as she beamed.

"Alright you randy lovebirds, save the eyefucking for later, it's time for your fight!" Vorscham said, limping towards the wall and gesturing for them to close to fighting distance. Jarvan and Shyvana each took several steps forward, Jarvan ripping the lance from the ground and bowed his head to Shyvana and then Vorscham. Shyvana matched him, bowing shallowly at the waist to the prince and the Lieutenant. "You may begin!"

Shyvana started to pace, but Jarvan slammed his lance down into the ground and watched as a standard arced through the air, landing just behind and to the side of Shyvana with a heavy _Thunk!_ She jumped slightly out of the way, surprised by the weapon, glancing over her shoulder at the standard as the flag atop it shivered in the gentle breeze.

"I forgot it did that." She said, grinning as she lowered herself into her customary fighting stance. She turned her body slightly to the side, lowering one shoulder and keeping the manifer in front of her defensively and raising the dragonhead gauntlet up and behind her head in a position to either attack or defend if need be. She grinned as she turned the manifer upside down and gestured for him to come forth with a finger. "You missed."

Jarvan grinned and took two steps forward, breaking into diagonal run putting Shyvana directly between the fluttering standard and himself, sliding to a halt and slapping the trigger on his lance, extending his arm as the lance exploded outwards. Shyvana snarled as she danced away, ducking just out of the way of the lance as it raced past, one of the many barbed tips just brushing along the edge of her chest plate.

"I forgot it did that, too." She laughed, looking up and down the lance with a cheeky grin. "You missed again, love." She looked to the barbed tip, expecting him to swing it around to strike her.

"Not quite." Jarvan proclaimed, grinning. There sound of metal striking metal surprised Shyvana and she looked behind her, the farthest tip of the lance hooked around the standard.

"Oh right..." She said, remembering the trick that Jarvan had used multiple times before in his fight with the dragons in the past. She looked back to Jarvan as the metal creaked and the standard shifted in the hard packed soil. The rattle of the blade retracting rapidly told her that something was going to hurt. Jarvan slid along the ground, one of his steel booted feet tucked to his chest. _God damnit._ Shyvana exhaled explosively as Jarvan lashed out with his booted foot, catching Shyvana in the stomach, launching her into the air. Jarvan slid up to the standard and dropped his other foot to the ground, pulling himself up, the lance snapping into position as he brought it up to bear, putting it between himself and Shyvana. The dragoness dived towards him, a wall of flames descending towards him as if it were great waves of flame like that of a dragon's wings. Jarvan ducked his head and grunted as he threw up his light shield, blue wisps floating around the golden bubble of energy, rings of gold spinning around his orb of safety. Flames splashed over the shield as Shyvana dropped to the ground, buffeted back by the shockwave of the orb erupting.

Shyvana licked her lips as she stood up, grinning at Jarvan with a vicious smile. She started to circle him like a predator who had finally cornered her prey. "You think you're funny, yes?"

"I have my moments." Jarvan said, shrugging, spinning the lance in a flourish designed to impress. "Perhaps you'd like to join me for another one of them this evening?"

"Maybe if you lose I'll let you entertain me." Shyvana said, licking her lips again.

"I might be okay with that..." Jarvan said, chuckling. He raised the lance up and rested it on his shoulder as Shyvana dropped low and started to close. She watched him with playful fire dancing in her eyes.

"You know, we never did set the record straight regarding our duels." Shyvana said with a smile. "It seems like it's about time we fixed that."

Jarvan nodded and extended his lance, aimed at her stomach. She giggled as she danced around the extension of the lance, the steel brushing her side as she ducked left and dropped low as Jarvan swung the lance to the side to try and catch her, but she only ducked under the extended blade. She spun and slapped the blades of the lance aside as she ignited flames under her feet, sprinting towards the prince, aiming to get within his guard. Jarvan slapped the trigger of his lance as it swung far out and braced himself as it drew in and retracted, rattling as it did. He brought it back across his body to try and strike Shyvana again, but she ducked the blade as it passed rapidly overhead, dropping into a flame fueled slide, her legs looking to tangle with Jarvan's. He let the force of the retracting sections of lance slamming back into the barrel of the weapon drive it back and over his head, pivoting the blade up, bringing the pointed hilt down towards her chest piece in a windmilling blow. Shyvana brought her guard up just in time, driving the force of the blow just to the side of her chest, breaking through the plate armor and ripping her tunic. Shyvana hissed as Jarvan got a view of the barest of white skin, and he gave her a playful grin.

He started to pull back, but Shyvana tucked her knee into her chest and lashed out, catching Jarvan in the breast plate, sending him sailing backwards, tumbling onto the ground. She launched herself forward after him, rolling up and bringing a flaming gauntlet up, slamming it down towards his gut. Jarvan pushed himself backwards quickly, the fist crashing to the dirt between his legs. It was his turn to hiss in surprise as Shyvana gave him a sly grin. She rolled backwards, coming up in a defensive stance. She tossed her head back to clear some of the red bangs from her face and coughed, blinking a few times and blowing a ring of smoke towards Jarvan as he got to his feet and grabbed his lance. He chuckled as the ring of smoke crested his face.

"How about we get some dinner after this?" Jarvan said, grinning. "I hear they finally fixed the window in my room."

"Is that so?" Shyvana said, raising an eyebrow. "Perhaps I'll have to check that out for myself then. As your future... _bodyguard,_ I should ensure that your quarters are properly secured." Jarvan chuckled.

"And tomorrow you do not have muster, correct?" Jarvan said thoughtfully. "Perhaps you'd like to go into the city? I should think that your armor from the ambassador is almost done."

"I'd like that." Shyvana said, smiling broadly. She looked down at where Jarvan had put a hole in her chest plate and tunic. "I grow tired of dealing with this flimsy armor." She tugged on it slightly, giving Jarvan a greater view of her breast. Jarvan's eyes were obviously drawn to the pale skin because he blushed, dropping his guard for an instant.

Shyvana exploded forward, barreling Jarvan over with a wall of flame, steel and flesh, bouncing off his chest and kicking herself away as he hit the ground and she rolled up to her feet, keeping her guard raised.

"That was a dirty trick." Jarvan grunted as he got to his feet and raised his lance in front of him. Shyvana nodded and grinned, chuckling softly. She went to blow him a kiss, but Jarvan knew what was coming and had dropped his shoulder, as his light shield erupted around him, the golden orb burning a deep orange as flames washed over his shield.

He grinned as the flames died, and he stepped forward, glass crunching underfoot as he stood, having formed in a crescent around where his barrier had driven the flames down into the dirt. He toed the glassy crust and whistled, grinning at Shyvana through the golden barrier. He dropped his shoulder and charged, catching the dragoness by surprise as a wall of shimmering gold energy bowled her over. She bounced backwards as the force of the blow finally broke the barrier and Jarvan brought his shoulder up so not as to impale her on the large, black claws that served as the stop-rib. He brought his lance down across his chest, leading with the barrel, and struck her side with the grip of the weapon. The force of the blow sent her crashing to the ground, gasping for breath.

Jarvan stood above her and raised his lance up, bringing it down, hard, just as Shyvana managed to get her guard up, pressing the two gauntlets together. The lance struck with the sound of a gunshot, sparks showering down atop the dragoness. Jarvan leaned down as he poured power and weight on behind the blow, Shyvana's arms shaking slightly.

"Give up yet?" Jarvan hissed, an even grin on his face as Shyvana gritted her teeth, trying to force the lance back. She snarled as she tried to force the blade back, but Jarvan had the upper ground and he was slowly starting to lever the weight down on top of Shyvana. Shyvana tried to kick him, but Jarvan dropped one leg over her left as he kneeled inside the other.

"Never!" She growled, groaning under the force. Jarvan watched blue scales started to creep up along her cheekbones and her eyes began to shimmer with the tongues of golden flames. He felt her start to push him back, and he realized that she would soon overpower him. Jarvan leaped back as a bolt of flame erupted from her hands, cleaving the air where he had just been. He landed on his feet and dropped to one knee keeping his knee low as he started forth, pushing off as Shyvana got to her feet. Jarvan raised his lance as if he were a knight charging without a horse, sprinting forth towards Shyvana. She braced as the blade came forth and then she disappeared from Jarvan's vision. It took him several crucial moments to realize she had ducked, letting herself fall backwards as the lance passed through the air above her. She grabbed the lance and wrenched it down into the hard packed ground, the tip of the lance quickly finding purchase and sending Jarvan vaulting through the air. Shyvana held onto the lance as it cartwheeled up, the weight of the weapon practically ripping her arm out of her socket, but she grimaced and held on as she was tossed through the air.

Shyvana landed on top of Jarvan with a grunt of surprise from the prince and a sharp exhalation of breath from him. She sat up, sitting astride the prince's stomach as he breathed deeply, a dazed look on his face as he looked up at the cloudy gray sky. She raised her gauntlet up, her other arm sore, and rapping the prince several times on the helm. Shyvana giggled happily to herself as she leaned forward and lowered her face down just above Jarvan, letting herself indulge in a wide grin.

"I believe I won." She whispered, running a few fingers teasingly along Jarvan's neck.

He grunted and looked down, a smile breaking onto his face as he sat back and grinned, a surprisingly smug look on his face. Shyvana started to open her mouth to ask why he smiled so, but there was a creak of metal that silenced her question. Shyvana blinked a few times as her chest plate split apart, exactly like it had been cloven in two. Her mail had also been split, and hung open, revealing her tunic below. Shyvana felt a breeze against her chest and looked down, blushing furiously as the buttons, mysteriously gone from her tunic, were unable to keep the garment close against the feeble wind.

"Tie?" Jarvan said, grinning sheepishly, his eyes closed as Shyvana held the gauntlet over her chest.

"I ought to slap you for that." Shyvana murmured, sliding a hand out of her gauntlet and holding her tunic closed. "But for now, perhaps this should suffice." She leaned down and kissed him, blushing lightly as she did. "It's a tie." Shyvana shrugged. "We both lost."

"You know, I'd like to think that in this case, rather than both of us losing, both of us won." Jarvan said, chuckling softly.

"You know, I like the way you think." Shyvana said laughing aloud.

"Dinner then?" Jarvan said, chuckling softly. "And then we can resume training, yes?" Jarvan smiled as he pushed himself up, Shyvana clambering to her feet and extending one hand to Jarvan, holding her tunic closed with the other. He accepted and pushed himself up groaning softly as he exhaled.

"If that's what you call it, sure." Shyvana said playfully, laughing at the color in the prince's cheeks. As he got to his feet, he came face to face with the open stares of both Alicia and Delancey. They both grinned like school girls and both looked as if they were about to burst into a fit of embarrassed giggles. Vorscham shook his head, looking around the remnants of the courtyard and the destroyed training area. He glanced at Jarvan and shook his head, turning and sighing as he headed for the doorway.

"What?" Jarvan barked gruffly as both Alicia and Delancey watched him and the dragoness.

"Is this how all your fights go?" Delancey said, shaking her head as she pushed herself up to her feet. "Cause what you two need is a bed, not a training arena. I'm sure I can send message to Noel to get your room ready if you want, sir."

"Are they gonna get that far?" Alicia said, glancing at Shyvana ruined tunic. "We can start a wager on whether they make it past Shyvana room in the barracks or not."

"I'm going to have you both locked up if you keep this up." Jarvan growled as steam poured off the top of Shyvana's head, her face as red as her ruby red locks. Jarvan wheeled on Delancey and pointed an angry finger at her. She grinned and raised her hands innocently, though Jarvan could see that there was obviously something she had meant to say. Jarvan scowled at her as he spun and headed to the building.

Shyvana turned and glared at Alicia. "Why do you two always try to embarrass me?" She hissed angrily. Alicia simply grinned and pointed after Jarvan.

"He's getting away!" She said cheekily. Shyvana frowned, trying to keep her eyes locked on Alicia, but she finally shook her head and took off at a jog after Jarvan.

Alicia watched as Shyvana caught up with Jarvan and took his hand, lacing her fingers with his as she looked up at him excitedly, talking happily with him.

"Why do we tease them so much?" Delancey said, crossing her arms over her chest as she grinned, looking to the gunny.

"Aside from how fun it is?" Alicia said mischievously. Delancey grinned and snickered. Alicia shrugged and picked up the shattered remains of her lance, tucking the remnants under her arms. "Those two are made for each other. It's hard not to see it when they're together, but sometimes I worry if they're not making enough progress because of the position they're in. So I try to keep them both motivated by teasing them and trying to keep things lighthearted when I can, especially with as dark and stressful as things have been recently." She gestured to the door as Delancey nodded, falling in next to the gunny as they followed after the prince and the dragoness. "It's just one of the ways I show that I care."

"You're such a good friend." Delancey said, laughing aloud.

"Shut up and help me." Alicia said, handing off a section of the lance. "Come on, you're going to get in trouble if you lose your mark." Delancey nodded as she picked her pace up to match Alicia.


	36. Chapter 35: Downtime

It had been the prince's absence, rather than the prince himself, that woke Shyvana in the morning. She yawned as she sat up in bed and raised her hands above her head, stretching like a languid cat. Shyvana shivered with the early morning chill as a breeze billowed the sheer curtains of the open window. She drew the blanket closer around her shoulders, her teeth chattering for a few moments. She blinked a few times, trying to clear her blurry eyes. The room felt empty and cavernous without Jarvan's presence. She looked around, taking in the impressive decorations of the room, tapestries hung upon the walls and great paintings filling the space where shelves of books and great windows did not.

She had been called many things in her short time here in Demacia, many none too kind and even more of them were exceedingly passive aggressive. She had the envy of many women and the men she had met who didn't wish to bed her saw her as an outsider who had no place among the elite Royal Guard. Some had voiced their concerns as such at first, but recently there had been a slow swing. She was proving that she would earn her position in the eyes of her detractors, and her recent vigor in training had made the statement that she was more than willing to fight anyone to prove that she was a capable warrior deserving of the position she desired. She yawned again, running her hand along her thigh, a particularly painful bruise on her leg protesting as she slid her legs from under the covers and the silken sheets.

Shyvana drug herself from the bed, slowly making her way to the edge, watching the floor as if it were an enemy ready to strike. She tested the waters with a single toe, hissing against the icy stone under foot. She could easily heat up the floor with her flames, but the thought of having to explain to the stern faced maid, Noel, how the stone flagons, many of them just recently replaced, had gotten charred sent a shiver down her spine. Part of it was fear of the maid and part of it was the fact that Shyvana wished for her stay with the prince to remain hidden for now, but Shyvana had seen Noel's fearsome side when she had dressed down a soldier who had tracked mud through the main hall. It had been a sobering but entertaining moment, watching the soldier quiver as she bombarded him with insults and criticisms, putting the best drill instructors in all of Demacia to shame.

Shyvana grimaced and hissed as she moved swiftly across the floor, hopping on her tip-toes towards Jarvan's closet, dancing into the room and relishing the heavy carpets on the floor. Shyvana looked around, hoping to find something to wear, and saw a heavy fur cloak. She could only imagine how warm it would be against the winter chill. As she was contemplating the thought of wearing fur under armor, she saw what looked like a section of the flame ruined body suit Jarvan had worn in the fight with Kampf. It had been stowed on a high corner shelf in the massive closet. Shyvana's curiosity got the best of her and she tried to pull it down to see what it was, but she yelped with a few pieces of armor came tumbling down after it. Shyvana had clamped her eyes shut and wrapped her arms over her head to protect herself as it came crashing down around her. When noise of the clattering avalanche had finally came to an end, she opened one eye to see what had happened and breathed a heavy sigh of relief to see that it had all come to rest around her, and nothing had hit her, luckily. She worried about the attention the noise could have made and began to clean the armor up, but paused when something odd tumbled out of the remnants of Jarvan's old armor. She palmed the object that had dropped to the ground.

"A dragon's tooth?" Shyvana said aloud, surprised. The tooth was small for a dragon's tooth, probably just the tip of one of Kampf's that had broken off during their battle. _How curious..._The sound of the door opening in the parlor caught Shyvana by surprise. She quickly stowed the armor away in the corner, just out of sight, and palmed the tooth as she finally grabbed a tunic of Jarvan's and pulled the large garment over her head, quickly picking up the blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders. She tucked the tooth into the pocket of the shirt, unsure of what to do with it for now as she headed back to the bedroom.

She looked around the room, pulling Jarvan's tunic up onto her shoulder as it rode down her arm as she drew the blanket around her shoulders. She stepped from the closet and then danced awkwardly across the room to where the window stood open, landing upon the fur rug that sat before it. Shyvana shivered as the cold air caressed her naked legs, the blanket she dragged around her shoulders billowing around her. She stuck her head out the window to pull the windows closed and paused, the brilliant white blinding her. She felt her jaw drop open and she rubbed her eyes, making sure she wasn't imagining what she was seeing. The entirety of the city of Demacia, with all of her buildings lain out below her like a toys, was covered in pure white snow. It drifted down past her face, tickling her nose and bringing a smile to her face.

"This is so beautiful..." Shyvana murmured, her breath clouding in front of her face.

"Good morning, Mistress Shyvana." A soft spoken voice said from the doorway. Shyvana started and looked over her shoulder, spotting the familiar black and white uniform of a maid. Shyvana quickly recognized the glasses with icy blue eyes glimmering behind them and the sleek black hair that framed the pale face.

Shyvana rapidly gathered the blanket around her shoulders and tried to smile. "I was just visiting this morning and I..." Noel gave the dragoness a tight lipped smile as Shyvana sighed, a defeated look upon her face. "Good morning, Noel." Shyvana said, blushing slightly as she met the piercing blue stare. "Have you seen Jarvan this morning?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Noel said, nodding. "He wished for me to tell you he had had a meeting with his father this morning and would return when he was finished. He conveys his regrets."

"Ah, I see." Shyvana nodded sadly and turned back to the window. She stared out of the window as snow drifted past. Noel stepped up to her side, a rarely seen smile decorating her sharp features.

"Surely this is not the first time you've seen a snowfall this heavy?" Noel said, her gaze jumping back and forth between the dancing white flakes and Shyvana. The dragoness glanced over at her and shook her head after a few moments.

"I've seen lots of snow in the past months." Shyvana said, laughing. "But not like this. I've never seen anything so beautiful as this view. It's..."

"Breathtaking." Noel said, nodding. Shyvana glanced over, a smile upon her face, surprised at getting to see a bit more of Noel than she had before. Jarvan had told tales of horror when he spoke of Noel, a cruel and demanding caretaker, but Shyvana had only seen a quiet and caring maid so far. Noel pulled the window shut. "Would you like some breakfast, ma'am?" Noel asked after a few moments. Shyvana tore her gaze from the window and nodded.

"That sounds good." Shyvana smothered a yawn as Noel led her from the room.

"I'll have something sent up, Mistress." Noel said, bowing.

"Thanks, Noel." Shyvana said with a smile. "And please, it's Shyvana... just Shyvana."

"Yes, Mis-... ah, Shyvana." Noel said, trying the name on for size. She looked uncomfortable at first when she used the name, but Shyvana felt awkward being addressed as '_mistress_'.

_It makes me feel as if I am some secret lover trapped in an ivory tower._ She blushed at the thought, realizing just how true that was, looking at the pale stone of the walls. Noel clicked off, disappearing through the doorway, leaving Shyvana alone in the parlor of Jarvan's suite of room. Shyvana opened her mouth to call after the maid, but the door was shut and the distant clicking had faded away. Shyvana frowned, looking down at herself, shaking her head at the irony of her statement. With her clothes in ribbons, Shyvana would be trapped in the room until either Noel or Jarvan returned. She started to approach the crackling fire when she noticed that a set of clothes had been lain out for her. She blinked a few times surprised by the garments as she stepped up and examined the tunic. She held it up and blanked for a few brief moments. _It looks as if it will fit perfectly, tailored just for me._

Shyvana blushed furiously. _Someone must have known I would be here!_

* * *

"Shyvana?"

"Yes?" The dragoness spun, expecting to see the prince standing there in the entrance hallway of the Demacian Palace, waiting for her, but in his stead she saw the blue and blonde locks of Delancey. "Oh. Hi, Del."

"The least you could do is try to not look so depressed." Delancey said, giving the dragoness a sly grin. "Jarvan said you'd be here." Shyvana blushed lightly as she glanced away, shifting from foot to foot nervously. Delancey looked the dragoness up and down and smiled. "Your skin looks so pretty today, so rosy and lustrous." Shyvana looked at her hands as a smile broke out on her face and then blushed even deeper, having realized what Delancey was saying.

"Please don't say anything to anyone." Shyvana said fiercely, glaring at Delancey, her cheeks burning with the memories of the night before.

"My lips are sealed." Delancey piped, grinning mischievously as she made the gesture of zipping her lips, locking it with a key and then tossing it over her shoulder. She set a hand on Shyvana's shoulder and nodded as she chuckled and gestured for Shyvana to walk with her deeper into the palace. "Jarvan sent me to let you know that he is busy in a meeting with the King, Generals Lorcan and Jormander, as well as several other high ranking councilors, and he can't get away as soon as he thought." The sergeant gave Shyvana a regretful glance that spoke of how she hoped that Shyvana wouldn't be angry. "Jarvan wished for me to convey his sincerest apologies, Shyvana." She bowed slightly, creasing her brow slightly in preparation for an explosion, but Shyvana sighed softly and nodded, a glum look upon her face.

"It's okay." Shyvana mumbled, shaking her head as she patted Del on the shoulder. "I feared something like this would happen when Jarvan disappeared this morning." The dragoness shrugged.

"He asked if you would like to join him for dinner at five, though." Delancey said, offering her an encouraging smile. "It's the soonest he can get away."

"Tell him that I'll be waiting for him." Shyvana said, nodding sadly. Del stepped up and hugged the dragoness, taking Shyvana by surprise, but she met the hug with a smile and a gentle return of the embrace. "Thanks, Del."

The sergeant stepped back and saluted proudly before she scampered away, disappearing deeper into the castle. Shyvana sighed. "The morning is lost then. Back to the barracks I suppose." Shyvana mumbled to herself as she started along the hallway. She paused at the doorway to the main courtyard, one gloved hand upon the doorjamb and the other resting upon the heavy timbers of the door. A Demacian Guardsman held the door for her, as she eyed the fluffy white snow with trepidation. This was the first time she had stepped into the courtyard since she had suffered the decisive defeat at the hands of Xin Zhao. She started to take a step out, but she froze, hesitating.

"It won't bite..." A soft voice urged from behind. Shyvana turned in the doorway, the ease and grace of Catherine Lightshield billowing around her as she seemed to float over the stone flagons that lined the corridors of the Palace.

"Oh, uh... your highness." Shyvana squeaked nervously, her already windswept cheeks burning an even brighter shade of pink. She envied the grace and wisdom of the Queen of Demacia, her soft voice and even demeanor serving to calm Shyvana's nerves with her very presence. Shyvana caught herself and bowed, her eyes upon the floor. "Apologies, I meant no offense."

"Please, please, it's Catherine." The queen said with a smile, her pale eyes glimmering happily. She set a slender, glove-clad hand upon the young dragoness's arm and guided her towards the door. "It is nothing more than water" She took a step out into the pristine white snow, smiling up at Shyvana. The dragoness nodded tentatively, taking a step out into the snow.

"I do not fear the snow, my lady." Shyvana said nervously. "But the memories it already carries." The light, snowy material offered no resistance as she stepped down into it, her foot finding purchase upon the stone slabs that lined the courtyard. Shyvana exhaled, her breath clouding before her. She hadn't realized that she had been holding her breath in anticipation, standing on the precipice of the doorway. She took several more steps into the courtyard before she looked up, the snow drifting down gently around her. The snow was gentle and light as it fell, only adding to the snow that was already on the ground. Shyvana looked out over the courtyard where a depression in the snow marked the center of the courtyard and the battleground that Shyvana had fought upon.

"Does it only carry bad memories, child?" Lady Catherine said softly. "Surely that cannot be the case."

"Well..." Shyvana furrowed her brow as she thought back. "There have been a few good memories." She spoke softly, holding her hands before her. _It was snowing when we slew Kampf. And it was snowing the first time we shared each other's company. I suppose there are a few good memories as well. _A smile started to spread over her face.

"That is more like it." Lady Catherine said softly, smiling warmly at the dragoness. "You have a beautiful smile, young one. I look forward to seeing you share it with my son and our people for years to come." Shyvana blushed furiously and Lady Catherine chuckled softly, the sound like that of tinkling bone china. "Ah, but where is that bone headed son of mine?" Catherine scowled, a rare frown crossing her normally placid face. "He should be out here sharing this moment with you, not I." Shyvana smiled as she held a gloved hand out to the snowfall. She managed to catch a snowflake, a grin growing across her face. Shyvana turned toward the Queen of Demacia.

"He was supposed to meet me this morning, but I suppose the meeting he had to attend was more important." Shyvana said, trying to hide the sadness in her voice. She tried to look hopeful, but the sadness in her eyes betrayed her feelings to the queen.

"My husband, the king, is busy preparing for many things right now, unfortunately, and Jarvan is probably doing what he can to assist him with that." She sighed, turning towards Shyvana, giving her a toothy smile. "It is unfortunate really, considering that you two finally have some time free and you're being kept apart. I know of the king's promise for when you defeat Xin Zhao, but really, this seems so silly. I shall have a talk with the king as soon as I can."

"That's not necessary." Shyvana said, shaking her head, long red locks of hair that descended down on either side of her face bouncing back and forth across her cheeks. A few flakes of snow descended down as she did, falling from the crown of her head.

"Nonsense." Lady Catherine said, waving a hand dismissively. "If I'm going to have any grandchildren by the time my husband passes the reins on, I can't have you and Jarvan spending so much time apart." Shyvana's face burned a brillant red as she stared at the ground.

"Yes ma'am." Shyvana said, her voice small and squeaky as she struggled to hide how embarrassed she felt. The queen laughed aloud, bringing a smile to Shyvana's face. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, dear." Catherine said, taking Shyvana's hand in both of hers. She looked at Shyvana with proud, kind eyes, patting her hand. "Please, ask anything you wish."

"I have to wonder, with all that has happened in the past months, I believe I missed much that is the holiday of Snowdown." Shyvana's hand gathered a bunch of her cloak nervously as she glanced from the ground to the queen and back again. "Talk among the other soldiers spoke of the tradition for lov-... couples to exchange gifts." Shyvana said, a frown creasing her brow. She was trying to at least show a mote of dignity in her speech when speaking to the queen of her new country and the mother of her lover. "I did not get anything for Jarvan, and I wish to know what would be appropriate as a gift." Lady Catherine nodded, her long brown hair bobbing as she nodded sagely.

"It is a Valoran tradition to celebrate the Time of Snowdown at the end of every year." Catherine said, nodding. "Decorations, good food, and friends and family are all a part of the worldly traditional celebration. Now a days, parents leave out gifts for their children under the guide of 'Santa', a mythical figure who visits children across the continent; Noxians and Demacians, Piltovians and Zaunites alike partake in their own version of Snowdown. Though this 'Santa' is the spirit of good will and brotherly love embodied into a very capitalistic view." Catherine chuckled softly and shook her head. "The Time of Snowdown has brought together all sort of men throughout the ages. It is unfortunate, however, that because of all of this conflict within the city, it seems as if the holiday spirit has passed the entire palace by."

"I see..." Shyvana said, reverence in her voice. "That's amazing..."

"It _is_ quite amazing what can happen when men come together to celebrate a mutual holiday." Catherine's head nodded slowly. She chuckled; the sound was like bone china clinking gently together. "During the Last Great War, Snowdown had managed to completely bring a halt to the hostilities. Men from both camps came together in the middle of the battlefield to have a great feast. The Demacian's brought and slaughtered a great steer and the Noxians brought a cask of ale so great it took three teams of horses to pull the wagon from the mud." Shyvana laughed at that and Catherine smiled broadly at her. "It was a grand occasion and they men played a game of Veilball."

"I have never heard that story before." Shyvana said smiling.

"Your father was a historian, a scholar, yes?" Catherine said.

"He loved history and humanity in general." Shyvana said, nodding. "He studied everything he could and he would have loved that story." She looked down at the ground, her voice trailing off. Catherine patted her hand as they continued to stroll through the courtyard.

"No record of the story exists other than word of mouth." Catherine said, a surprisingly devious smile on her face. "Both Commanders, the Demacian Field Marshal and the Noxian General both had a massive court martial of their respective forces. Rumors were eradicated and while the official records were lost, the story is a solemn reminder that even in war, humanity stands true in the hearts of men."

"That's quite the tale." Shyvana said, smiling. "Does Demacia celebrate the Snowdown differently from other nations?" Catherine nodded sagely.

"It does." Catherine said with a soft sigh. "I believe you saw a bit of that when Jarvan took you on your first date within the city, no?" She smiled as Shyvana blushed lightly. "The Time of Snowdown is a time of reverence in Demacia. We celebrate the dead who have passed in the year previous. While we do partake in the traditional celebrations, we Demacians are much more reserved when it comes to our celebrations. We hold great feasts and memorial ceremonies to honor our dead and we also offer up gifts to the graves of the dead for them when they pass over." Shyvana looked down at the ground, her mind wondering to how it could feel if she had to lay a gift upon Jarvan's grave or if he had to do the same for her. Shyvana shivered and sighed softly, trying to banish the thoughts from her mind.

"I'm sorry, dear." Catherine said after a few moments, shaking her head slightly. "I didn't mean to drone on." Her brown bangs that were just beginning to get shot with gray bounced about from side to side, barely held in place by the tiara she wore on her head. Her pale blue cloak was dusted with powdery snow that drifted off of her head and shoulders in wisps as she shook her head. "You had a question before I went off on my little story that I do not think I answered."

"I was just curious about what I should get Jarvan as a gift." Shyvana said, smiling. "I've never celebrated Snowdown before so I have no idea what is appropriate. I know it is long past the Snowdown..." Shyvana's voice trailed off and she blushed as she shrugged.

"I believe we had a conversation about this once before." Lady Catherine said, a smile spreading over her face. "I don't think we actually ended up deciding on anything then, now did we?"

Shyvana shook her head and smiled. "By the time we finished eating and talking, it was so late I could hardly keep my eyes open." Shyvana blushed slightly, though she still wore her smile. "I had been so nervous I hadn't managed to get anywhere near as much sleep as I should have the night before." Lady Catherine laughed aloud.

"I remember that evening well, yes." Lady Catherine laughed, a smile beaming on her face. "Though it is sad." Her smile slid away and she looked to the snowy ground, pain in her eyes. "Nearly two months have passed and yet I know no better answer to your question." Catherine said softly, sadness sweeping through her voice. She sighed heavily, the weariness appearing on her face, wrinkles and lines appearing as she lost a few inches in height, her shoulders slumping. She lost her regal appearance, the royalty that surrounded her fading slowly as she slumped slightly and on a bench. "It was heartbreaking to watch as he suffered back then, and when he disappeared without so much as a goodbye, I didn't know if I was ever going to see him again. It has been so long since I'd had reason to be happy at Snowdown that I completely lost track of things. I only wish things had been more... _amicable_ with our family then. It doesn't seem right to have wasted such a festive season over such bickering between father and son." The queen tried to put on a smile, but Shyvana could see the pain still in her eyes. "What am I saying, though? Things are finally looking up!"

Shyvana knew the feeling all too well that came with the suffering of losing a loved one. "We fought for only the second time a week ago." Shyvana said nervously, looking up at the queen, not sure what to expect from the woman. The queen only nodded slowly. "Is it wrong of me to still feel guilty about some of the things I said?"

"I heard about your argument, yes." Lay Catherine said, shaking her head. "And no, it is only human nature to worry about the ones you love, even if it is after a fight or a disagreement where you may or may not be to blame. My son is not infallible though, I learned that years ago, but an argument like that can only help your love grow. The fact that you remain together, closer than ever despite that means there is something truly beautiful between the two of you. I can see it. I just hope you can as well." Catherine sighed heavily and patted the dragoness's hand. "And you can't imagine how glad I am to see that the two of you managed to work it all out."

_At times it almost seems as if we aren't going to make it._ Memories of the fight she had with Jarvan less than a week before flashed through her mind, but the aching muscles in her body banished what few reservations she had left. _A week of solid fighting and sparring, and we have only grown closer and closer._ Her hand rested on her arm where she had blocked one the prince's thrusts of his lance, and she blushed slightly at the choice of words in her own mind. Shyvana sighed contently in the queen's company. _I wonder if this is what it's like to have a mother?_ Shyvana's smile grew slightly and she blushed, looking to her lap. _This feeling... it is so warm and comforting. _It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, not all too different from when she and Jarvan had managed to share one of their few quiet moments.

"I wanted to thank you." Shyvana said after a few moments of simply watching the snow fall.

"Me?" Catherine looked surprised. "Whatever for?"

"For supporting me." Shyvana said sadly. "With the king and so many others still doubting me... It helps me manage every passing day to know that there are others who approve of Jarvan and I." Shyvana had been surprised when Catherine had immediately accepted and reassured her when so many others had alienated her. Her continued support, even if it were nothing more than the knowledge that it exists, was one of the reasons that Shyvana pushed through everything.

"Let me share something with you I learned long ago." Catherine said, looking up into the slate grey sky. "Love can blossom anywhere, between anyone. You can try and stop it and ruin your relationship with the one you care for, or you can support them and the one they love." Catherine smiled as she met Shyvana's gaze. She patted the dragoness on the hand again. "I have seen how much Jarvan loves you, time and time again, young one, and that is more than enough for me."

"Thank you..." Shyvana said, sniffing once and then brushed a tear from her cheek. "I really mean it."

"And thank you for bringing my son back alive." Catherine said, carefully pulling herself to her feet and extending a hand to the dragoness. "Both physically and mentally. I haven't seen him as happy as he's been in the last week in almost three years." Shyvana nodded, smiling and blushing deeply as she accepted the queen's hand and got to her feet. "Now then." Catherine said, clapping her hands together, a smile blossoming on her cheeks. "Let us see about this gift, it is long past time we got one for the prince. And a dress, you will need a dress as well!"

Shyvana blinked a few times and blushed slightly, surprise clear on her face. "What do I need a dress for?"

"The Royal Ball of course!" Lady Catherine exclaimed happily. "Jarvan asked you to accompany him, did he not?"

"Yes... he did." Shyvana said, dropping her gaze and blushed. "But... I can't wear a dress... I can barely walk in one."

"Nonsense!" Lady Catherine said, smiling happily. "What would a ball be without a gown and dancing?"

"Dancing?" Shyvana's face paled. "But I... I've never danced before!"

"I shall teach you then!" Lady Catherine said, smiling. "Consider it a part of your training. Jarvan is teaching you to fight, yes? So I shall teach you to be a lady of the court." Lady Catherine's smile grew as she beamed, looking down at the dragoness. "I shall make a princess out of you yet!"

* * *

"This is our stop, dear." Catherine said as the carriage trundled to a stop. She pulled the curtains back and looked out into the warm glow of the street, a smile upon her gentle face, the weak orange glow of the street reflecting back upon her pale skin.

"I've been here a few times before." Shyvana said softly, looking up the warmly lit street.

"I met you here, yes." Lady Catherine said, nodding her head and smiling. "You can find anything and everything here on Merchant Street. And you shall have the three best guides on this trip, instead of just one!" She patted Shyvana's knee and smiled as she started to disembark, one of her female guards opening the door to the carriage.

A female Demacian Lancer upon her horse clicked up to the carriage, great clouds of steam billowing from her steed in the cold of the gloomy midday snow. Shyvana glanced out of the window. "Halt." She ordered as a small crowd of figures approached the carriage from the street. Though they wore Demacian uniforms, the guards took no pause in approaching, weapons drawn and brought to bear in the direction of the hooded figures. "Identify yourselves."

"Stand down, Captain Ferron." Catherine said from within the carriage. She stepped down with a hand from Shyvana. The lancer circled in place once before she glanced down at the young women who stood wrapped up against the wind on the street. The guard grunted but nodded and backed her horse off, though she was well within striking distance should anything prove threatening to the safety of the queen.

"Yes, ma'am." The captain said, gruffly. "You may approach the carriage." Several young women approached, each bowing to the queen as they stood up. A smile spread on Shyvana's face as she recognized two of the women.

"Del, Alicia!" She blinked a few times, shaking off her disbelief as her smile grew. "What are you doing here?"

"The queen wanted me to show you around again." Alicia said with a grin, her hand resting on her sword as she shrugged.

"And the prince wanted me to make sure you were safe, as always." Del said, shrugging and chuckling softly.

"I thought you were on duty, today..." Shyvana said, shaking her head as she hugged the young woman.

"The sergeant major took over for me." Del responded. "I coulda taken the day off I suppose, but with Forsythe finally working, I didn't have anything to do, and this seemed like more fun."

"I'm glad you're here." Shyvana said, smiling, turning to the last of the three as she pulled her hood back. "And who are you?"

The third young woman had pale blond hair that fell just below her shoulders, held in place by a blue headband, bouncing as she smiled, cocking her head to the side. A white, blue and golden striped scarf decorated with the Demacian Emblem was wrapped around her neck and her blue eyes sparkled brilliantly even in the dim light. She wore a heavy blue cloak that hid the rest of her body, but from what Shyvana could see she was slight of build, though she did have some curves that were hidden by the billowing cloak. Shyvana saw a flash of silver armor beneath the cloak. _That explains the slight build at the curves I suppose._ Shyvana smiled and extended her hand as Lady Catherine gestured to the young woman.

"May I present Luxanna Crownguard of the Demacian Security brigade, a personal friend." Catherine said with a regal tone. The young woman bowed and smiled. "She, along with Gunnery Sergeant Juniper and Sergeant Delancey, will help you with whatever you need, so please, don't be afraid to ask anything of them, Shyvana." The dragoness nodded earnestly as she cast a withering look at the young woman from Demsec, but she was put slightly at ease by the level of comfort that Delancey and Alicia showed towards the young woman. Shyvana stepped forwards and shook hands with the young woman. She had a surprisingly firm handshake for a woman of her small stature; she was even smaller than Delancey was, barely coming up to the dragoness's shoulder. As the young woman smiled, Shyvana recognized the name and finally connected the fact that she had seen the woman's eyes before.

Shyvana started to shake her hand, but stopped after a thoughtful frown settled on her face. "You're..."

"Garen's younger sister." The young woman said, nodding her head politely. Shyvana caught the tail end of her rolling her eyes back as she put on a forced smile. Shyvana only recognized it because Vorscham had perfected the gesture when informally addressing officers he had labeled as 'chickenshit', namely Major Seymour. It was perfect for people who thought they were important, but only needed smoke blown up their ass till they went on their merry way. Shyvana nodded politely, already fearing she had tread on a nerve.

"A pleasure to meet you." Shyvana said as politely as she could.

"Luxanna, Vivian, Alicia, please take good care of her for me." Catherine said with the pleasant smile of a mother watching over her young children. "Try not to burn the city down, girls." Her smile glimmered as she looked at Shyvana, the dragoness blushing as she got the joke.

"No promises." Delancey said with a sly grin, turning towards the busy street, looking expectantly towards the many busy shops and the bustling traffic, even in the light snow that drifted down from the sky above.

"I'll keep them in line, ma'am." Alicia said, setting her hands almost menacingly on Shyvana and Delancey's shoulders.

"See that you do." Lady Catherine said with a knowing grin, looking at all of the young women in turn. "I'll tell Jarvan to meet you as soon as he is finished, yes?" Shyvana nodded eagerly. "Have a good afternoon, ladies." Lady Catherine turned and accepted a hand up, back into the carriage.

"Yes ma'am." Shyvana said, bowing stiffly as the coachman shut the door to the carriage and the Lancer Captain waved a hand above her head in a circular motion. The rest of her lancers, nearly twenty in all, retreated to their formation back around the carriage. Luxanna, Alicia and Delancey waved to the Queen as the small convoy disappeared down the street.

"Well then, how was your time with the queen?" Alicia said, grinning. "Have fun talking with her again?"

"She says she's going to make me a princess." Shyvana said, blushing. Delancey chuckled at the dragoness's nerves, and Alicia gave the sergeant a rueful glance. "It was nice talking with her though, I hardly remember anything about my mother."

"Lady Catherine has always been like that." Luxanna said, nodding and grinning slightly. "She always treated Garen and I like we were her own children when we went to play with Jarvan as kids."

"You know Jarvan?" Shyvana said, slightly surprised. Her surprise quickly turned to suspicion and the slightest bit of pained jealousy as if she suspected Lux would steal her prince away. She looked to Delancey and Alicia with surprise, but Delancey only grinned and Alicia was already busy looking down the street, obviously planning out their shopping excursion. Shyvana turned her gaze back to Lux as she smiled and nodded.

"He was like another big brother to me." Luxanna said, smiling. "He was always so protective of me around the other academy students, almost more so than Garen. I always thought he had a crush on me, but I realized he was just being a noble idiot. He was as dumb as my brother and a bit thick in the head…" Delancey snorted and wore a cheeky smile and Lux blushed. "Not like that!" She fumed at the sergeant, turning back to meet Shyvana's exacting glare. "Nothing ever happened between us, I swear!" The dragoness's glare intensified ever so slightly but after a few moments she sighed, letting out a surprisingly thick cloud of steam.

"Whatever you say…" Shyvana said, frowning slightly, but Lux tried to look reassuring.

"I promise you, Shyvana, Jarvan and I are like brother and sister, that's it." She smiled at the dragoness.

Shyvana wore the frown for several more seconds before letting it fade. "I believe you. If you're that close to Jarvan, I'm happy to know you." She stuck out her hand. "Friends?"

Luxanna looked surprised for a few moments, but her smile grew as she excitedly accepted Shyvana's hand. "Gladly!"

"Good to see you two are hitting it off." Delancey said smiling. "But you know, the whole childhood friend thing… like a 'sister'… it makes for compelling stuff." The sergeant mused, grinning when both Shyvana and Lux turned on her and glared angrily. She laughed aloud and the raised her hands defensively. "I only jest! It was a joke." Luxanna rolled her eyes and giggled lightly as Shyvana shook her head.

"Your jokes always suck, Del." Luxanna said, shaking her head. "Always have."

"Don't kid yourself." Delancey said, grinning cheekily. "You love them. Even back at the academy you loved them."

"Yeah, yeah." Luxanna muttered, but she wore a smile.

"If you guys are done chatting, we should get started!" Alicia said, turning back to the group with a demanding smile, as if she expected someone else to lead. There was silence among the group as they all exchanged glances with each other.

"Well, unless anyone has a better idea, I know of a well renowned dress maker that we can visit first." Luxanna said, looking at the other girls and smiling primly."

"Okay..." Shyvana said, falling in besides Lux as Alicia and Delancey brought up the rear. "Luxanna?"

"Please." She said, turning towards the dragoness. "It's just Lux."

"Alright." Shyvana said, an excited smile upon her face. "I know nothing about dresses, so I was hoping…"

"Don't worry, the queen explained to me what we're doing." Lux said, obviously catching Shyvana off guard. "The dress is the easy part, I have a perfect idea that will go with your hair and eyes. I was more curious about the other part of our little trip. I know we're also shopping for the prince, so I'll start off by asking this: any ideas?" Shyvana shook her head.

"What sort of gifts are normal for a woman to give a man?" Shyvana said, frowning slightly. She looked to both Delancey and Alicia but they shrugged, a frown marring Alicia's face as if she were distracted and Delancey was busy gazing off at a store front.

"I can't really say that there are too many traditional gifts that are unique to the Snowdown." Lux murmured thoughtfully as they roved up the street. "Jewelry, candy... it's all your fairly standard romantic fare from what I know." She shrugged. "Nothing really special comes to mind."

"I'd like to get something that means something." Shyvana said frowning slightly. "I want something to give him from the heart, from me."

"You could always polish his lance for him." Delancey said with an elfen grin. Shyvana blushed deeply and Lux and Alicia laughed aloud, the young blonder sorceress having to cover her mouth to stifle the sound. Shyvana stared at the ground, Alicia guiding them around a knot of other shoppers as the white haired gunny snorted and grinned. Shyvana shot her a frown, but the gunny ignored it, Shyvana instead turning her anger towards the playful blue and blonde haired sergeant. She reached out to hit Delancey in mock anger, but the sergeant danced ahead, narrowly missing bumping into someone, only to stick her tongue out and crash into a lamp post.

It was Shyvana's turn to laugh as the ring of Delancey's head colliding with the metal post halted the sergeant's teasing gestures. Shyvana finally shook her head as she returned to fitting the sergeant with a glare. "I've heard that one before." Shyvana said crossly, though she wore an unimpressed smile that betrayed her entertainment at the joke. "You'll have to try harder than that."

"If you want harder, just go spar with Jarvan without any clothes on." Delancey snipped as she rubbed the lump forming on her head. She grinned imperiously as both Lux and Shyvana's faces burned bright red.

"Is this what you normally talk about?" Luxanna said, aghast, looking to Shyvana with horror on her face. Shyvana was to busy swatting at Delancey to notice the ever so light mocking tone in the mage's voice. "And here I was told you were a proper young woman!"

"Wait, Lux, this is just Del being silly..." Shyvana started to say, but the broad smile on Luxanna's face gave away the fact that she was kidding. Shyvana frowned. "Now you're all making fun of me."

"I'm only kidding." Lux said after she had composed herself. "Maybe." She winked. "Is there anything special that you and Jarvan of you share? Like a special occasion that stands out? Or maybe a place?" Lux said, gesturing in the air as if she was trying to paint a wild picture.

"Aside from the prince's bed?" Delancey said, giggling to herself as she continued to rub her head. Shyvana growled this time, sucking in a quick breath and then closing her eyes for a brief moment. Her eyes flared orange for brief moment, serpentine black diamonds glimmering coldly as she opened her mouth and spat a small ring of flame at Delancey. Her eyes quickly returned to their normal magenta color, as the ring of fire danced through the air. The sergeant yelped and leaped backwards, tripping over the curb of the street and ending up sprawled in a snowbank.

"Not cool!" The voice echoed from a Delancey shaped hole in the snowbank. "You scared the hell out of me!"

"Serves you right." Shyvana said, standing over Del. She reached down and poked the sergeant in the shoulder. "Shush, you. I don't need or want attention like that."

"She thinks she's funny." Delancey grumbled as she picked herself up out of the snow, accepting a hand from Lux who was beaming at the entertainment. "I'll show her funny..."

"Says Frosty, the abominable snow-sergeant." Alicia said, rolling her eyes. "We're getting distracted and people are staring."

The sergeant glanced around, laughed nervously, and went about brushing snow from herself as the others set off again. "I'll be quiet now."

"Good." Alicia said imperiously, looking back over her shoulder like a disapproving mother. "You were saying Shyvana?"

"Oh right, well..." Shyvana said, her smiled fading as a thoughtful frown just barely creased her brow. Her mind wandered back to the decimated village and the ensuing back to back dragon battles. Jarvan had come close to dying again, and Shyvana hadn't been all that far off either. Isaacs had lost a leg and then his life, and both Forsythe and Quinn had nearly been gutted in the process. She shivered at the memories. Both she and Jarvan still had the scars from the occasions.

"I mean, short of asking your entire personal history with him, does anything jump out at you?" Lux said, frowning. Shyvana grimaced looking down at the ground. "Don't worry, you don't need to say anything if you don't want. Unfortunately, not all memories are good." Lux shrugged. "But anything that serves as a strong connection for the two of you, or something that symbolizes that connection could be a perfect gift. Like... I have a _friend_ who really likes archeology and reading. Well I also really like reading, so I would get him an archeology book." There was a moment of hesitation in her voice that spoke as if it hadn't worked out nearly as well as she had hoped.

"That's oddly specific." Shyvana said, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. Lux blushed and glanced out over the street as if she suddenly didn't want to talk about it.

"Oh! I've got a good one." Delancey interjected, stepping forward with a devious smile, pointing to a distant shop that Shyvana couldn't place amid the busy street. She leaned in towards Shyvana. "How about some kinky lingerie that'll blow the prince's socks off while you blow his-..."

"Del!" Alicia said, taken aback, shaking her head, though a cheeky smile broke over her face. "That is a great idea!"

"What's lingerie?" Shyvana said, glancing back and forth from the two sergeants. They exchanged a glance and then burst into laughter and snorts that degraded into snickering and giggles. Shyvana looked to Lux, surprise and confusion on her face. The young blonde Crownguard blushed slightly but leaned in and quickly gave Shyvana an explanation of what it was.

"I-I-I..." Shyvana stammered as her face turned so red that the distinction between her hair and her face was lost. Steam poured from the top of her head as she ground to a halt as if her brain had completely overheated.

"Don't tell me you don't long for the prince's touch." Delancey said with a mischievous grin. She hooked an arm around Shyvana's neck and pulled her over, bringing Shyvana in close. "If you're to afraid to jump his bones, just put on a little lingerie, look defenseless and tadaa! He'll jump your bones!"

"Del!" Shyvana hissed, her face still beet red. She stammered and then raised an accusing finger, pointing it directly at the sergeant. "I'll get some for Jarvan if you get some for Forsythe!" It was Delancey's turn to have her face turn bright red. Her mischievous prancing ground to a halt as she glanced to the ground.

"So you found out about him and I already did you?" Delancey glanced up at Shyvana. "I thought we were keeping it hidden pretty well."

"Wait... you mean you..." Shyvana stammered, a dumbstruck look on her face as she stared at the sergeant.

"You mean..." Several seconds ticked by till Delancey smacked her self upon the face with an open palm, hissing in anger and frustration. "_Gooooodamnit..._" She stretched the syllable out nice and long as she sighed. "Me and my big mouth." Del muttered. "Please don't tell Jarvan, okay?" Delancey said, bowing her head and pleading with the dragoness, clapping her hands together in front of her. "I told him I wouldn't rush into anything with Forsythe but it happened so fast that I didn't even know what to do and now..."

"I won't say anything." Shyvana said, shaking her head as her cheeks finally cleared, this time donning the sly grin. "But what about them?" Shyvana turned to look at Alicia and Lux who were watching the sergeant and dragoness with mock interest.

"I'm just going to keep watching and stay out of this." Luxanna muttered quietly as she moved slowly ahead. She paused and looked back over her shoulder. Shyvana and Delancey's glares turned to the gunny.

"Don't look at me." Alicia said, trying to shrug it off as if she hadn't been listening. "I don't want anything to do with this. You lovebirds can do whatever you want." Shyvana and Delancey glanced at each other, as a grin spread over the dragoness's face.

"If were both going to get some, maybe you should too, June." Shyvana said, deviously. "I've seen the frustrated looks you give Lieutenant Vorscham sometimes."

"No..." Delancey said in mockingly loud disbelief, her eyes going wide as a smile blossomed. She looked at Alicia, a wicked smile on her face. "You and the lieutenant? You dog, you!"

"I have done nothing of the sort!" Alicia stammered, her face flushed in embarrassment. "Besides, dating my commanding officer wouldn't be proper." She crossed her arms over her chest as if she intended to simply ignore Shyvana and Delancey until they dropped the subject.

"Would the three of you listen to yourselves?" Lux said, glaring at all three of them. "It's shameless to listen to you all talk about this in public!" Lux said shaking her head, though she blushed slightly and glanced at the ground. "Do you really think lingerie would work that well on a guy?"


	37. Chapter 36: War Council

"I take it preparations for the trip to Kalamanda fair well?" The king said, leaning back at the large table. He frowned slightly, looking around at the various different members of his war council.

"I have been assisting General Lorcan in making sure his troops are equipped properly. Councilor Yankov has been liaising with the Merchant's guild, and things are progressing smoothly." Councilor Crownguard said, nodding his head sagely. "My son will bring what information he has gathered about the region, village and the Noxian forces that have mustered there in several days' time." A frown settled on the councilor's face as he looked at his documents that he had laid out before him. "Apparently Noxus reinforced their standings in the city with half a brigade of infantry and cavalry within the last week."

"What is our best estimate of their strength now?" The king said, grimacing.

"Easily over two full brigades of infantry now, and several battalions of cavalry." General Jormander said, lifting a sheet of paper, his eyes dancing over it briefly before he shrugged. "There are a large number of support elements as well, with infrastructure to support the troops who are stationed there, bringing in supplies from Noxus, food and water, information and anything and everything the commander there will need to sustain his forces indefinitely. Word from my dragnet reports that their supply lines are stretched thin, but holding for now."

"How about our own supply lines?" Prince Jarvan said, tapping a finger on the desk to garner attention to his point. "I know that some merchants have stated they were afraid to ship along the east road considering the recent blast there. Will they hold up to the strain our own forces are exerting at the moment?"

"I believe they will." Coucilor Crownguard said, nodding his head in the prince's direction. "Councilor Yankov has been pressuring the merchant's guild to increase their tonnage, but he says that he's had trouble convincing them that the east road is safe. Some say they will only continue to ship if they can take the west road, but that adds nearly a day and a half to the shipping times." He shrugged, shaking his head. "More considering the limited facilities we have to monitor traffic at the western gate."

"Have the Piltovan engineering crew finished their repairs on the east road yet?" The king said, again glancing over his notes.

"I do not know, to be honest, sir." Crownguard said with a slight frown. "They seem to be working efficiently, but I do not know how long it will take to finish fully. Cecil Heimerdinger, the yordle who was responsible for the blast, is leading the efforts. His techmaturgical machines, while efficient, are doing the work of hundreds in a fraction of the time."

"Many people do not care for their metal monstrosities and contraptions." The prince murmured with a slight grin. "Though I do not blame them, the machines have their uses."

"I take it you voice your concern over the injuries that were inflicted upon your companion, yes?" General Lorcan asked aloud, only confirming what most of the other members suspected. Jarvan frowned slightly but nodded. "And she is healing well, yes?"

"She was fully healed days ago." Jarvan said with a thin grin sliding onto his face. "We've been training recently to try make sure she's not lost any of her strength."

"Also to defeat the Seneschel, no?" Lorcan said, his eyes twinkling as he grinned.

"Enough." The king snapped, rapping his knuckle upon the table. "We can speak of this later." He sighed heavily, shaking his hand. "Councilor Lorcan, what's your best estimate on how long it will take to get our tonnage back up to our full capabilities through the east gate?"

"If my estimates are complete, the repairs should be complete by the end of the week." The councilor glanced down at his desk and then back to the queen, finally shrugging. "That is if we allow the Piltovans to progress as they see fit."

"I do not wish to ask them to withdraw." The king said, shaking his head firmly. "Their assistance is invaluable, and I do not wish to send them any ill will. Our relationship with Piltover is not one I wish to squander over mere shipping issues." He looked to the blue eyed head of the Crownguard family. "Can we spare any men to post patrols along the east road for the time being to keep current traffic safe?" He turned to Lorcan. "Would that be feasible?"

"Perhaps." Lorcan said, shrugging. "I shall see if I can start rotating some of the garrison out as they are reequipped and mobilized."

"Do it." The king said, nodding, returning to his notes for several brief moments. "Do we know who the commander of the Noxian forces are at this point?" The king wore a slight frown as he shuffled through the stack of paper that he had been given as an outline for the meeting. They had already covered the first two pages, and the officials who had been necessary for those discussions had left, leaving the king with only those who would play a large role in the coming months. All of the forces that would be stationed in Kalamanda had been shifted to General Lorcan's staff to streamline the chain of command. He had been working closely with Councilor Crownguard who had been doing his best to coordinate the information flow in the region by liaising with the Pilotvans, Ionians, and the Kalamandans themselves. No small amount of his information came from his own children, both of which were serving as emissaries and representatives to the League of Legends. He was also doing his part to bridge the gap between several other members of the legislative council and the military to facilitate supply movements and the flow of necessary goods and arms.

"It was stated in my son's last communique that the Noxian Commander had been withdrawn to be replaced, though he gave no indicated reasoning behind the move." Councilor Crownguard shrugged. "My staff believes that General Malek Hawkmook may be given the command now that he had been forced home from Ionia, but that is only one theory."

"And there are other theories?" The king said, frowning.

"A few, yes." The councilor said with a shrug. There was substantial pause as he glanced at the prince. Jarvan IV was surprised and he sat up slightly, realizing that the attention foretold that the news would undoubtedly have some bearing upon him. "The second, more popular theory, which I might add is pure conjecture, is that command will be given to the newest General of Noxus to test his mettle."

"Swain..." Jarvan growled, shaking his head.

"Yes." The councilor nodded his head. "My staff believe his decisive tactical style and his ruthless ambition will be used to try and gain a foothold for Noxus in the region, especially after the loss of Ionia."

_Is this what you were planning on Swain? _Jarvan uncurled his fist from around the arm of his chair as the wood creaked under his grasp. _Your play will be made in Kalamanda, and I will be there, waiting for it._

"That would make sense, yes." The king said, frowning glancing at how ridged his son had become. "Until we know who we are dealing with, are there any ways we could strike out and oppose the Noxians short of continuing to marshal our forces into the region? I don't like this powder keg that is continuing to build."

"We could try and starve the Noxians out." Jormander said, shrugging, speaking up. "Any target trapped in a building will eventually flee for food or water..."

"You mean to blockade the Noxian forces inside their camps in Kalamanda?" Lorcan said, pushing his spectacles up further onto his face. "I thought the idea was to _not_ incite open war here."

"You misunderstand my example." Jormander said, bowing his head and frowning slightly. "Apologies. Noxians are going to be desperate for resources with their loss of Ionia. They will be forced to trade for raw materials and foodstuffs, and that means they will most likely look to Zaun. If we attack them where they are weakest..." The king raised a hand to stop the general and he nodded.

"Is there any reasonable way we can disrupt the supply lines without risking open war?" The king suggested, glancing at Jormander.

"We could deploy a company of rangers to run interference along the roads between Zaun and Noxus." Joramander said with a shrug. "Noxian forces have finally secured their trade routes from Askay and Meland and onwards to Zaun, but with their shipping tonnage from Ionia reduced to nil with the recent release of Ionia from Noxian stewardship, they've grown heavy on their dependence on Zaun for trade. My information net tells me there are large gaps in the security along this new trade route that we could easily take advantage of in the darkness of night."

"Rangers could be effective, but I feel the risk is too great." Prince Jarvan said with a frown. "The threat of escalation if any of our rangers are captured is not an issue we can tread lightly upon. It would be dangerous to assume Noxus will let guerrilla attacks upon their supplies go unnoticed."

"So we remove anything that could be traced back to Demacia." Jormander said, shrugging. "It is simple enough to do."

"That region is rife with bandits and wild beast. Our men would be fighting for their own lives as much as they were fighting against Noxus." Jarvan said shaking his head. "They wouldn't survive long like that, constantly fighting. Little rest that far behind enemy lines, on the scale that we would need to make a sizable dent in Noxian supplies in Kalamanda would far exceed even the capabilities of the most elite rangers."

"And you know this how?" Jormander growled defensively.

"Firsthand experience." Jarvan hissed through clenched teeth, dragging out each syllable.

"Ah yes, your little trip into the wilds. Perhaps you overestimate your own strength and underestimate our forces, prince." Jormander said, frowning, his voice tense as his glare. "Perhaps you should first familiarize yourself before you decide to judge."

"He is familiar with the region, and the Noxians." The king said firmly, glaring at Jormander. "That is one of the reasons I asked him here today." His glare swept to his son, the prince's fiery glare smoldering behind his blue-grey eyes.

"Sir, my dragnet can easily pick up any information needed that the prince could provide. It will be accurate and up to date... not the hunting tales of an overzealous young man." Jormander said, shaking his head.

"When was the last time you fought for four days straight without food or sleep, general?" Jarvan asked, his voice low and guttural. "I've been in that region and I am familiar with the weather, the terrain, the fauna and the dangers that the region offers. The people are neither forgiving nor as lame as you seem to think. It would not be easy for a large force to operate there. If one were to be captured... Noxians long ago mastered the art of torture, general." Jarvan IV said with an imperious smile. "They are much more competent than you in that respect."

"How would you know of the general's torture methods?" General Lorcan said, a thin grin starting to form upon his face as he took the prince's cue. He had been watching the growing discontent between the prince and the Demsec general, and Jarvan had glanced at him several times, as if he were preparing a trap.

Jarvan let himself indulge in a brief, victorious grin. _Wily as you are, General Lorcan, you are much sharper than anyone gives you credit for._

"I have _firsthand_ experience." The prince said, nodding his head to the Demsec general. "I faced the pleasure of being submitted to Noxian torture while I was a guest of their dungeons for the brief time I was there. It was not a fun experience, however, I did not think Demsec so rife with corruption and the rot of laziness, general, that your interrogator would break his own hand against the body of the man he sought information from."

A moment of tense silence filled the air.

"Is this true, Jormander?" The king growled, his eyes wavering on the precipice of a dark, raging storm. Jormander sneered at Jarvan and the prince watched as the general's fists shivered in anger upon the table. He crumpled a piece of paper in his hand as he tried to open it and it convulsed back into a fist. "You would torture your own people? You would lay a hand upon my son!?" The king slapped his open palms upon the table. "Speak now, Jormander, or I will consider your silence an admission of guilt!"

"Demacia as a nation has always prided itself upon its national security and the unending loyalty of her people." Jormander snarled, fury in his eyes. "We maintain this fervent loyalty through underhanded measures as it is! _The Measured Thread_ is nothing more than propaganda and drivel used to brainwash soldiers and children. I would seek to remove the cancer of a spy amidst our great people with the same loyalty and _desperate_ measures and you react like this?" Jormander sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "I would have thought you more understanding of my decisions. Your son could be a spy for all you know, hell, he may not even be your son! Who knows what Noxian sorcery could be at work here? Perhaps your son could explain why he was found in company of the man who shot him several weeks ago. A meeting between spies perhaps?" Jormander grinned as if he had won the trading for blows. "It may have been a set up to try and gain the trust of those around him!"

"That does not warrant _torture_, you power blind fool." The king hissed, barely restrained fury boiling behind a calm facade. Jarvan shivered as his father's eyes tracked to him, the blue thunderheads already storming with a terrifying fury. "Explain yourself, Jarvan. Now."

"O-of course, father." Jarvan said, clearing his throat. It had been many years since he had seen anger of that level in his father's eyes. "I was taken into custody upon revealing that I had been drinking with a murdered man the night previous. Based upon his equipment and items found in his possession, it is believed that he was one of the men that had assaulted me within my chambers in the palace. He was the marksman who I caught a bolt in the shoulder from. However, in my defense, I knew none of this at the time when I was simply searching out a drink to cool my head after a fight between Shyvana, myself, and the fiancé you _assigned _to me. The man offered me a seat at his table in a packed tavern and I accepted. That was the extent of my knowledge about him."

"And you believe the theory about his identity to be true?" The king said, his gaze withering upon Jarvan slightly.

"Yes." Jarvan said, nodding after several seconds. "He carried with him an armored case which held shards of a mysterious black ice that had been fashioned into bolts for the crossbow he also carried. I'm sure if it were compared to the fragment that was pulled from my shoulder, it could easily be confirmed. And while the general's theory about my being a spy is amusing, I don't exactly understand why I would risk my life to save Shyvana if I was a spy. To be perfectly honestly, that seems like a really stupid way to blow my cover."

"That proves nothing though!" Jormander snarled. "The evidence could have been planted on him to make it look convenient as an assassination. He could have been an innocent man for all we know, but he was brutally slain. I believed it to have been perpetrated by the prince as an act of revenge for attempting to shoot his pet dragon. I tried to prove this, but the prince proved to be much more _hardened_ than I would have thought. If only I had more time I could have easily ascertained the truth."

"What, with chemicals and magic?" Jarvan snarled.

"You had him tortured, Geoffrey?" The king hissed in disbelief. "Have you really grown so mad?"

"He refused to believe me when I told him I had left the man unharmed, despite the fact that I had been escorted away by one of _his_ men, which he had placed into my command to spy on me, I might add." Jarvan sneered, rolling his eyes. "You still have Wallace Lee tailing me and going through my documents, do you not?"

Jormander snarled angrily in response, but he offered no words in defense of his actions.

"This simple fact was also corroborated by Sergeant Major Argus Perrywinkle, one of the most respected noncommissioned officers in the entire Demacian military. And yet you chose to have your thugs try and take petty revenge on me because you seem to hold some sort of grudge." Jarvan crossed his arms over his chest and jerked a thumb towards the door. "If you wish to check for yourself, the sergeant major is standing just outside. He will back my story up." Jormander started to stand in protest, but Lorcan cut him off.

"If I may add one fact, your highness." General Lorcan said evenly, raising his hand slightly. The king gestured to him to speak with an exasperated wave of the hand as Jormander sank back in frustration. "When I had the prince sent to the infirmary to have his wounds examined from his stay with the good general, I got most of the story from the prince about what had happened. He seemed genuinely surprised about the man who had referred to himself as 'Deadeye'. Something stood out to me, based upon his story. There was no direct attempt to kill the prince during their short time together, which tells me the man did not wish to reveal the fact that he was, in fact, an assassin. When the prince mentioned that his sergeant, Lee, I believe it was, had bumped into him and the prince had spilled coffee over himself, I realized that the sergeant had most likely seen something the prince had not while tailing the prince." Lorcan paused for a moment, taking the chance to shoot Jormander the barest of menacing smiles. "I had the prince's tunic tested for poison. Sure enough, I found _Hysteria_, a slow acting poison that slowly drives the victim insane by attacking the nervous system, causing massive brain hemorrhaging. Other than its distinctive killing style, it is virtually untraceable when ingested."

"If it is so untraceable, how did you find it?" Jormander said, rolling his eyes.

"I said it was untraceable when ingested, general." Lorcan said tightly, the loathing no longer hidden behind polite tones. "It binds with metal fairly easily due to the heavy elements in the poison. They pass quickly through the body though, doing the damage and then getting flushed from the body within a matter of days. The onset of the poison comes after that, slowly, as if it were of natural causes. Had you actually been looking for fact and reason, you would have noticed it. Even a cursory glance at the man's equipment would have revealed evidence of the poison. It is hard to remove from cloth and metal. However, you were more interested in finding a way to pin it on the prince out of petty hatred."

"Have you anything to say in your defense, Jormander?" The king growled, the fury still boiling in his eyes like a rolling thundercloud.

"I do." Jormander said, his normally olive complexion drained of color leaving him looking pale and withered. He glanced at his lap in an out of character moment of unabashed shame. "Sergeant Lee was to be removed from the prince's command a day before the incident occurred. However, he failed to return to his post within the Security Brigade, and when I looked into the paperwork regarding his transfer… it was missing."

"You mean to say..." Lorcan stammered, his eyes growing wide behind his spectacles.

"I did further digging into the man known as 'Sergeant Wallace Lee.'" Jormander said, his frown now deep seated and troubling. "There was almost nothing on him in the Demacian archives and when I examined his service record kept on file in the Demsec records, there were major holes. He had all the necessary requirements filled perfectly, but when you dug deeper, there was just nothing to the man."

"He was a ghost, then?" Councilor Crownguard said, his blue eyes wavering slightly with curiosity.

"He was, at first." Jormander said, shaking his head. "I sent a request out for possible duplicate records from his supposed previous postings, hoping them merely misplaced, but nothing showed up. Within a day though, I had received word that record of a Seaman First Class Wallace Lee had been found, misplaced in a Freljordian Garrison Commander's office. As it turns out, Seaman Lee was a sailor who had been stationed in the Freljord on a merchant ship. He was an orphan, naturally, and he had been raised in the military, but his career was rather unspectacular. Not of poor conduct, simply boring and just that: unspectacular. He was bound to make the return trip on the DDS Excursion, but he suffered an incident and was forced to be waylaid from the ship's crew. With the sinking of the ship, his records were moved to that of a man who had been missing, as his body, which we now know wasn't on the ship, had not been recovered. He was later to return to Demacia on the next ship home, but after that, the records of the new Sergeant Lee take over."

"So you mean to tell me that Sergeant Wallace Lee _isn't_ Sergeant Wallace Lee?" The prince said, leaning back, slumped slightly in his chair in surprise. _How can that be? I checked him out myself…_

"As far as I can guess, Wallace Lee died in the Freljord months and months ago." Jormander muttered, his face a stony mask of apathy.

"You assigned a spy to spy upon the prince of Demacia, you fool." Lorcan whispered incredulously. "I have never seen incompetency so perfectly manifested before. Congratulations." Lorcan shook his head as he leaned back, stunned. "I'd ask to shake your hand but for fear of catching your stupidity."

Jormander balked for a brief moment before his face turned to that of outrage. He slammed his hands on the table and burst to his feet, sending the chair crashing backwards. Before he could shout an inflammatory reply, the king held up a hand and silenced them both.

"Jormander, you are relieved of command of the Demacian Security Brigade at this time." The king said softly, his voice surprisingly serene. "You are to remain in your quarters from this time, henceforth, until I deem it necessary to bring you before a Military Court to stand trial on counts of gross negligence, incompetence, willingly endangerment the royal family, the unlawful detainment of an Officer of the Demacian Military, and the knowing torture of Demacian personnel."

"But sir... Jarvan..." Jormander started to say, but the king slowly looked to the man and what little color in his face instantly drained away.

"Do not speak my name, cur!" The king hissed, venom and fury dripping from his voice. "You will be dealt with in time. I would have you executed on the spot, but I feel lenient considering. You best be glad that your stupidity did not result in the death of my son or his friend. I can only hope the enemies you have made in your time, who will most likely serve upon your tribunal, do not see it fit to let you die quickly." The king waved his guards forward. "Get this wretch out of my sight!"

The prince watched as Jormander stammered back, his knees weak under the full force of the king's words and started to protest, anger in his face as the guards grabbed his arms. His glare was molten and poisonous, instantly turning to Jarvan IV as if his very gaze could kill. Jarvan remained impassive, despite the hatred and loathing in the man's eyes. He jerked his arms free from the imposing guards as they started to drag him away. He tried to remain defiant as he straightened his tunic, but the guards grabbed him by the shoulder and steered him from the room. "Release me! I have my dignity! ENOUGH!" His shouts and protests faded slowly from earshot and down the hallway.

"Remind me why he is a general again?" Lorcan said, shaking his head in mock disgust.

"He was one of the few officers well trained enough to lead a unit that large, as well as maintaining an understanding of infiltration and information." The king said, raising one eyebrow as he looked at the elderly general. "He had an exemplary record, despite the various citations about his conduct." The king shrugged. "I took him under my wing and he proved capable. He earned that position, despite his attitude. Or perhaps you'd like to dispute my views of my generals, Holven, namely yourself?"

The older man raised his hands defensively. "Apologies sire." He said, though prince Jarvan caught a flash of something in his eyes that seemed reminiscent of exasperation. Lorcan pushed his glasses up on his nose as he bowed. "I did not mean to call your judgment into question, merely my counterpart's conduct." The king did not respond, turning away to stare out one of the windows at the falling snow.

"Father..." Jarvan started to say, but Lorcan put a hand upon his shoulder and shook his head. The prince frowned but shut his mouth. The king ran his hands over his face, breathing a heavy sigh of frustration.

"Better not to disturb him, young'n." Lorcan said softly, letting his head hang for a moment. "I do not speak for him, as this is merely an observation, but I believe Jormander was almost like a second son to your father. Jormander and your father are surprisingly alike, and with you father's responsibilities as king, and his responsibilities to both you and Demacia, he is forced to choose between the two of you. Despite the apparent ease with which he made the decision, I do not think it easy for him. Give him time."

Jarvan's face was stony. "As you say."

"Besides, you have more pressing concerns." Lorcan said, grinning crookedly. Jarvan gave him a quizzical glance. "You should be focused on trying to win over the people's support for you and your dragon princess." He chuckled. "Demacians are stubborn and resilient. They will not easily accept a commoner, or a dragon for that matter, so easily as their new queen. You may wish to consider that going forward."

"It is not something I hadn't considered." Jarvan grunted glumly. "Though I had somewhat hoped that things would simply fall into place with time."

"They may yet…" Lorcan mused, tugging on his wispy beard, his glasses shimmering menacingly, "…but I would keep my eyes open for _opportunities_, if I were you, should they arise."

Jarvan grunted, frowning thoughtfully.

"I apologize for gathering you all here this afternoon and then curtailing this meeting as such, but I have suddenly lost my desire to speak of war." The king bowed his head, rubbing his index finger and thumb over closed eyelids. He sighed heavily a second time as he sat back in his chair heavily, his shoulders slumping. "Please, if you do not mind, I would like to reconvene tomorrow morning to speak further about the preparations for Kalamanda."

"Of course, your highness." Lorcan said, standing and bowing deeply. "It will give me time to concentrate my information as best I can."

"I shall do what I can as well, your highness." Councilor Crownguard said as he stood and bowed. "I would like to confirm the information that was... gleaned here today if nothing else." The councilor turned and nodded to the prince and Lorcan. "If you will excuse me?" The king waved dismissively, and Lorcan and the Councilor started from the room. Jarvan IV started to follow, but the king rapping a knuckle against the heavy wood table froze the prince in his tracks.

"A moment, if you have the time to spare, my son." The king said, frowning as he glared at the polished sheen of the table.

"Of course, father." Jarvan said, bowing slightly and turning to face the king fully. He dropped into a stiff parade rest, his hands clutched at the small of his back.

"How long... how long has this been going on?" The king said, looking up the prince with a troubled frown. "This business with the spy? And how long has the general harassing you? "

"Two or three weeks?" Jarvan said, frowning. "It hasn't been more than a month since I formally met Jormander, but I believe that his problems with me might go back much further than that. As for the other matter, I had some notion of Lee from when he was assigned to me, but I never followed up with any of it." He shrugged. "An oversight on my part, considering all I took was a cursory glance at his records, looking back."

"Why did you say nothing of it to me?" The king asked, a bit of disappointment in his voice.

The prince blinked twice, surprised. _Anger would have been easy to handle. Disappointment, however... that was completely unexpected. _"There were circumstances, father." Jarvan said, evenly.

"Circumstances?" The king raised an eyebrow, fitting his son with a glare that quickly withered the prince's resolve.

"Threats, then." Jarvan said quietly. "I know you hold no fondness for Shyvana, father, but I do. He threatened her with rape and pain and only god knows what else while she was lain up in the hospital, unconscious. I had no power to protect her on my own, because I was constantly doing the general's bidding in what little time I had and that of my own duties as it were. I tried to keep one of my few staff to watch over her, but with Jormander's resources, what could I do? He had one of my own men working against me... or so I thought, and there was nothing I could do with Shyvana so isolated. He said he bore your blessings in his duty."

"In his pursuit of the safety of Demacia, yes, but not this kind of madness." The king murmured, frowning. He looked up from the wooden table and locked gazes with the prince. "And you truly believed him capable of this?"

"He held a friend of mine captive for almost a week to force me to come to him, into his lair, so he could lay the down the law." Jarvan growled. "He had me tortured for information, simply because he could. His men were scared, but he forced their hands. He may have Demacia's interests at heart, but he is a cruel and evil man, father. Only now, I fear for anyone who tries oppose or harm her."

"I see." The king said, softly, shaking his head. "And what of Sergeant Lee? Do you think he shall try to do you harm?"

"I do not know." Jarvan said, grimacing. "If I had not heard the story of the poison from General Lorcan, I would not be sure what to think, but now..." Jarvan paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Even now I am not sure what to think."

"Very well." The king said, sighing and shaking his head. "If you see him, jail him. But for now... let it be. I wish to look into the matter a bit more for myself."

"But sir, father, he was under my command. It should be my job to..." Jarvan started to say, but the king raised his hand.

"No, I started this one when you returned home." Jarvan III shook his head. "I ordered it, I approved it, and now, as such, I shall deal with it accordingly."

"As you wish, father." The prince said, nodding quietly.

Several long moments of silence passed.

"Is there anything else I can do, father?" Jarvan said, bowing his head ever so slightly.

"No, thank you." The king said, shaking his head. "You have done enough for today." He glanced at the table and then looked up, meeting his son's gaze. Several long moments of silence passed. Prince Jarvan started to turn away, but the king cleared his throat. Jarvan turned to meet his father's gaze, but the man had turned away, and he stood regally, a slight air of haughtiness about him. He coughed into his hand once and glanced briefly over his shoulder to make sure his son was still there, looking back towards a shelf lined with books. "I believe I forced you to cancel with Shyvana this morning, did I not? Perhaps you can salvage what is left of this evening."

Jarvan stared at his father for several long moments and he realized his jaw was hanging open. "Uh..." He shook his head when his father cast him a curious glare. "What... what of my engagement? Would it be proper?"

"Would you listen to what I told you even if I did?" The king said, sinking slightly where he stood, withering as the wrinkles on his face and the bags under his eyes seemed to deepen. He looked aged and weary for a few moments as he closed his eyes, running a hand over his beard and exhaling slowly. There was electricity in his blue eyes though, and their strength seemed to have banished the exaggerated age in his features. "For now... forget about it. There are more important things to worry about with these new issues at hand. I do not need you to be opposing me at every turn over a decision in which I obviously no longer have a hand in making." He pushed himself up and breathed deeply, though his shoulders still sagged slightly.

"Father..." Jarvan breathed.

"Hmm?" The king looked to his son, expecting a question, but the prince swept forth and enfolded his father in a hug. The king was unable to hide his surprise, unsure of what to do with his arms, but after several brief moments, he wrapped his arms around his son for the first time in years.

* * *

The king stepped forward along one of the walkways that lined the high walls of the ornate entrance hall of the Demacia palace. He leaned on the railing and exhaled softly, shaking his head.

"I never guessed one such as yourself to expect parenting to be easy, my king." Xin Zhao said, approaching along the walkway. The king glanced at the Seneschal and nodded vaguely.

"I think I have aged more in the two months since he has returned than in the previous two years that he was gone." Jarvan III mused softly, shaking his head again as he watched his son stride through the hallway below, his bodyguard, the sergeant major, practically jogging to keep up with his son's massive strides. The king chuckled softly at the prince's boyish enthusiasm as he no doubt rushed to share the news with his companion and lover.

"What brought about this sudden change in heart if I may ask?" Xin said, a thin smile on his face.

"Do you have children, Master Zhao?" The king said, looking over to the Seneschal with a raised eyebrow.

"You know that I do not, sire." Xin said, bowing his head. "Though you are almost akin to a brother to me, and the prince was the closest thing I've ever had to a child."

"I forgot how close you two were when you he was but a child." The king said, a fond smile playing over his face. He looked to the Seneschal with a grin as if he was remembering something long past. "You know, you are actually the reason that my son chose to wield the lance as his weapon of choice." Pain followed the king's expression and he shook his head. "I was long blind to the affection I had for my own son, more concerned with politics and the future of Demacia. I never once stopped and considered how my son was—is the future of Demacia."

"I'm glad for you, sire." Xin Zhao said, grinning.

"Though it was no small part Catherine's urgings and the unending dedication that Shyvana and Jarvan have for each other either." He exhaled sharply, a wry grin breaking over his face as he stood up. "They've been spending every single evening sparring and fighting, training endlessly to defeat you. They train till dusk and till their bodies cannot cope. I don't think I've ever witnessed this level of devotion before."

"Not even your own to your nation, sir?" Xin jested, laughing lightly. The king smiled and nodded.

"They are both extremely strong." The king murmured, shaking his head. "But their mental fortitude and resolve must be equally tempered if they wish to have any hope of succeeding in their endeavors. This is not Noxus. The Demacian people do not value strength as highly as their Noxian counterparts. I fear that the road before them is going to be longer and far more arduous than they believe it will be."

"They are both resilient, sire." Xin Zhao nodded his head as he spoke softly. "The prince's will has been both tempered and developed with his time apart. His temper has not diminished, and I fear he maybe as impulsive as before, but his eyes betray how he has grown."

"You saw it too, then?" The king said, frowning.

Xin nodded. "Before, his eyes were dead, but it seems that the dragon girl has instilled fire back into his eyes. She has rekindled the fire in his heart. The fire of a warrior, fueled by a draconian lover burns incredibly hot within him." Xin smiled as the king sighed, running a hand over his face. "You may not like it, sire, but they are a single being now, forged in battle. Not even the weight of Demacian tradition or the disapproval of her people wil break that bond."

The king grinned as he pulled his crown from his head and ran his hand through his black hair. He looked at the crown he held in his hand, running his fingers along the jewels that had been lain in the gold and silver. "When you put it like that, I fear for your safety, especially if the words of the dragoness's skill is true." Xin shrugged as the king looked up and met his gaze. "Her power is both fantastic and terrible... the power of a dragon..." He snorted and shook his head as he returned the crown to his head.

"Taming her heart was no small feat for your son." Xin said, resting a hand on the railing. "He is strong as well, though, if I lose to her in a duel, it is because she has bested me in combat and her strength is greater than mine. I will not let her win so easily."

"I do not wish for you to let her win." The king said, grinning. "Even if I may not disapprove of it any longer... I don't approve of it yet either."

"Give them time." Xin laughed aloud. "Even an immovable object can be swayed with enough force."

* * *

Jormander paced restlessly in his office, a wild look upon his face, his short blond hair tousled about.

_How dare that punk of a prince try and replace me!_

He spun on his heel and lashed out, smashing a vase with his fist, casting fragments through the air, skittering along the stone flagon floor. Guards burst into the room, expecting an assassin, but in absence of a malicious force, they found their commander with a wild-eyed glare, a bloodied hand and ruffled hair. He snarled at the guards and spun, clenching his fist, blood dripping to the ground.

_He thinks he's better than me! He thinks he can do my job for the king!_

He snarled and looked for something else to lash out at but he froze. He turned to one of his aides, who had been watching the entire tirade, a cruel smile breaking onto his face. He tugged his jacket tight across his chest, running a hand across the front of it to smooth the rumples, leaving a massive bloody streak down his front.

The guards took half a step back each.

_He knew what would happen if he dared cross me..._

He turned to a guard who stood staring at the smashed vase. "Go and fetch Major Seymour of the Victoria training company, First Demacian Royal Guards Battalion." Jormander said softly. "I wish to speak with him."

The guard looked shocked at first but he snapped off a salute and disappeared, doing whatever he could to leave.

The malcontent within the room was cloying, as if a blood stained haze had settled upon the room.


	38. Chapter 37: Armor

"Don't look so mopey." Alicia said with a grin as she reclined in her chair, sipping a steaming mug of tea. "I'm sure Jarvan didn't mean to take so long. I'd be willing to bet he'll be along any time now."

Shyvana pushed the remnants of a sandwich around on her plate, leaning heavily on her arm, her elbow resting on the table. She looked up at Alicia and then over to the two others, both Luxanna and Delancey watching her with middling frowns upon their faces. There was concern in their expressions as they watched the dragoness. Shyvana sighed as she sat up, though she stared at her plate.

"It's not that bad." Luxanna offered encouraging words, a warm smile upon her face. "Things like this happen all the time. Both brother and father get called away to emergency meetings with fair frequency, more so when something big is happening, like this Kalamanda mobilization, so it's only to be expected." Luxanna shrugged, pouring herself another cup of tea. She stirred cream and a spoon of sugar into her cup and then held it in both of her hands, looking at the murky liquid with a slight crease of her brow. She took a deep breath of the steam that was drifting off the surface of her tea and relaxed her expression, offing Shyvana a bright eyed and hopeful smile. "Sometimes, it just can't be helped."

"I know, I know." Shyvana said, sadly, her shoulders drooping. "I just wanted to spend some of my time off with him today. The only time I've got to see him about is when we've been training, even yesterday. We spent almost all day fighting."

"That's a bad thing?" Alicia said with a grin. "And I was under the impression that you had already gotten to see more of him in the last week than you had in the last month combined."

"Well, yes." Shyvana said softly, frowning slightly. "But still..."

"And hey, you got to see _all _of him last night, right?" Delancey said, leaning over and nudging Shyvana with her arm, wearing a mischievous grin. "I really don't know what you're complaining about." The sergeant added a playful wink.

"Del!" Shyvana hissed, blushing. "I asked you not to say anything!"

"She didn't need to say much." Alicia said, leaning back and grinning. "I had a hunch." Shyvana glared at the table and said nothing, her face burning a bright red. "So what now?" Alicia asked, leaning back and kicking her knee up against the table as she sucked on a decorative straw that bobbed in her drink. She kicked back and grabbed another pretzel from a bowl left on the table. She took the long thin pretzel stick and nibbled on it as if she were smoking something. "Got anywhere else you want to visit?"

"Well, we already visited the lingerie shop, we got Shyvana a dress, both you and Del got your dress uniforms tailored." Luxanna said, ticking things off her fingers. "I got to check out that magic shop I wanted to see and we just grabbed a late lunch, so..."

"We can always just walk around some more." Delancey said with a shrug, looking back over her shoulder at the mostly deserted streets. "The snow has cleared the streets for the most part."

"Eh..." Alicia frowned and kicked herself back further, exhaling. "We could I suppose, but do we even know where to meet Jarvan?" Alicia looked to Shyvana but the dragoness frowned and shook her head.

"He was gone before I woke up this morning." Shyvana said, color still marking her cheeks. "I didn't even get the chance to talk to him before he had disappeared. Noel said he was going to meet us for lunch, but we waited pretty late and we still didn't see him."

"Oh well." Alicia said, shrugging. "I suppose we can just kick around until we run into him then."

"Shyvana, didn't you have a suit of armor being made for you by the Iron Ambassador?" Delancey asked, raising an eyebrow and frowning slightly. "Did you ever pick it up? I know you've been using and destroying a steady stream of standard Demacian fatigues and armor plates. You're up to what, twelves pairs of fatigues that you've managed to ruin in the past three weeks?"

"Fourteen." Alicia said, sitting back and shaking her head. "They don't exactly stand up well to the flames, especially as hot as she gets when fighting." Alicia chuckled at Shyvana's expense, the dragoness blushing a deep shade of red as she looked down at her lap.

"Is that why you and Jarvan decided to just forgo clothes altogether for your 'training' last night?" Delancey said, chuckling as she ducked a pretzel that Shyvana threw at her.

"Del, you jerk!" Shyvana said, puffing out a cheek as she glared at the sergeant. "We actually spent most of the evening boxing. Jarvan is teaching me how." Shyvana slapped a fist into an open hand. "Perhaps you'd like to see what I learned?"

"Yeah, yeah, No more jokes." Delancey chuckled softly as she pulled herself to her feet. "Come on, we've got nothing better to do anyways while we wait, we might as well walk around." Shyvana looked to the others women who sat around the table. Lux shrugged and Alicia nodded. "Let's get out of here." She stood up and yawned, stretching her arms and looking about. She started to dig in her pockets but Shyvana tapped her on the shoulder and shook her head.

"No, I've got it." Shyvana said, smiling sadly. Delancey started to raise an eyebrow but Shyvana shook her head again and started towards the till and the waiting attendant. "It's just my way of saying thank you for to today." She turned to look at Alicia and Luxanna. "All of you. I've had a really good time today. I don't think I've ever had such a fun time in my entire life. It's nice to pretend to be normal for once."

"You don't need to pretend." Alicia said softly, smiling as she pulled on her jacket and patted Shyvana on the shoulder. "You're as normal as the rest of us."

"Do any of you turn into a giant, fire-breathing dragon when you get angry, though?" Shyvana said sarcastically, though she softened the almost venomous tone with a smile.

"Yeah and none of us are sleeping with the prince!" Delancey added with a whisper that earned her a cross look from the dragoness.

"Did you get recruited into the special forces as a teenager?" Lux said, crossing her arms over her chest almost defensively. Luxanna obviously noticed that she had sudden become cold and distant because she forced herself to uncoil and she offered Shyvana a smile, though there was something else behind the expression. "You're not alone in being different, Shyvana. You're just a bit more unique than the rest of us."

"If that's what you call it." Shyvana said, laughing as she paid the cashier and then followed the others out onto the street. "At least you guys fit in." Shyvana look a deep breath as she let the attendant handle her change. She accepted the money in return and slid it into one pocket.

"Hey." Alicia said aloud, sternly enough to draw the dragoness's full attention, gently punching Shyvana's shoulder, turning the dragoness's thoughts away from the dour. "You being here with us is proof enough that you fit in. Now, where to?"

"I think I might just go back to the barracks and take a nap." Shyvana said, toeing the crust of a bank of ice covered snow with a frown as the others followed her outside.

"Oh, no you're not." Delancey said, getting behind Shyvana with a wide grin on her face. "Not yet." She pushed upon Shyvana's back, getting the dragoness moving down the street. Shyvana tried to turn away, back towards the palace grounds, but Alicia grabbed her arm and tugged her along. "We got you a dress and now it's time to get you some armor. Im tired of filling out paperwork every time I have to put in a request for another uniform for you. It was commissioned and I know for a fact that it was finished. It needs to be fit, so don't even try resisting, we're going."

"How did you…" Shyvana started to ask.

"Nope!" Delancey snapped excitedly. "Now, forward, march!"

Shyvana looked rueful but she finally acquiesced and nodded her head. "Fine." She murmured softly. "Let's go." 

* * *

The softly lit shop stood out amid the darkened street like a beacon. Most of the shops had closed early for the day due to the snow that had been falling through the day. Though light and feathery, like the down of the goose, the snow bearing clouds had darkened overhead and threatened to turn into a blizzard. A few people bustled along the street in a hurry here and there, arms full of groceries and last minute purchases for the looming inclement weather.

"Why can't I just go home?" Shyvana said, dragging her feet along the ground. "I don't feel well." She looked up to Delancey who wore a wide grin and paid her no heed. Shyvana then turned to Alicia, and while the gunnery sergeant offered her a smile, she continued to steer Shyvana with a firm grasp upon the shoulder towards the shop. "June, Del…"

"If you don't stop complaining, I'm going to tape your mouth shut!" Alicia said with only a bit of frustration marring her voice. "You don't have a choice in this, girl. You might as well pick up your feet and walk a bit faster."

Shyvana stuck her tongue out at Alicia and cast a wayward glance at Luxanna. The young sorceress smiled brightly at her and gestured towards the sop with a hopeful look on her face. Shyvana blinked twice and again looked to Delancey. The young, blonde sergeant looked about fit to pop, as if she had something welled up inside of her that was itching to get out. Her lips were pressed into a hard line, but the brilliant sparkle of her green eyes framed by her bright blue forelocks betrayed the giddiness she was feeling. Shyvana jabbed her in the side with a finger and grimaced at she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. The sergeant squealed in surprise and hissed, glancing over at Shyvana with a shocked and angry look. The playfulness hadn't drained away though.

"Spill it." Shyvana growled at her, glancing over at Alicia who was still busy guiding her along towards _Blomgrum's _armor shop. "You know something."

Delancey glanced away, refusing to meet the dragoness's gaze. "I shouldn't. It would ruin the surprise."

"Bite your tongue, Del." Alicia snaped, rolling her eyes as she stopped outside the armor shop. The shop was softly lit and it showed its age, dust on the displays in the windows, cobwebs in the corners, and the path was covered in snow and unsalted. There were only a few pairs of tracks of boots that had led towards the door in the snow that had drifted under the awning. One set looked massive compared to the others; it almost twice that of Shyvana's own boot size. "Come on, we're expected."

"We... are?" Shyvana said, looking from Delancey to Alicia. The gunny beamed at her, her pale cheeks glowing in the cold wind. Shyvana looked back to Delancey who was now so excited she was red in the face. She bit her lower lip and was practically bouncing in her boots as she jerked her head towards the door.

"Go!" She hissed excitedly. "He's waiting for you."

"Del!" Alicia said disapprovingly, but when Shyvana looked to the gunny, the disapproving look dissolved into a smile. _Go_, she mouthed.

Shyvana nodded breathlessly, her voice caught in her throat. She fumbled with the doorknob for a brief moment before she finally managed to work the latch and she practically bowled the heavy wooden door down. She looked around the room desperately, only the tall stacks of heavy metal and leather scraps that littered every surface could be seen though. They were everywhere, obstructing everything in Shyvana's vision, but she stopped dead in her tracks and she took a deep breath. She sniffed the air a few times.

_Cocoa, ash, and metal polish. _Shyvana looked around, there was light in the back of the building, filtering down through an open doorway. Soft music and the sound of two voices, through indistinguishable, could be heard from beyond the door.

"Up here!" The voice was deep and strong, and though it was almost cheeky, it sent a shiver down Shyvana's spine. She bolted up the stairs and stood in the doorway, glaring furiously at the man who sat reclined on a small couch within the invitingly warm room. Jarvan sat on one of couches of Poppy's parlor, a child-like grin on his face as he sipped a cup of cocoa. Shyvana's face was red, her hair disheveled and there was a mix of relief and anger on her face as she glared at him.

"Hey, love. I wondered how long it was going to actually take you." Jarvan said non-nonchalantly as he set his mug down on the table and leaned forward. Black hair fell into his face, his blue-grey eyes dancing playfully as he watched Shyvana threaten to explode with nothing more than a cheeky grin on his face. The silence was broken as steps came tromping up behind the dragoness, the sound of female voices coming from below as well.

"You think she's going to be mad?" That was Delancey's voice.

"Maybe. But I think she'll be happy about the surprise rather than angry." That was Delancey.

"As long as she doesn't take my head off with yours, I don't care." Jarvan could hear Lux shaking her head as she rounded the curved staircase and then froze on the steps. Shyvana turned slowly, her hands posted on her hips as flames sparkled around her fists. She growled softly as she glared down at the other women.

"Surprise?" Alicia and Delancey said together, grinning nervously. Flames threatened to burst to light around Shyvana's fists as Jarvan got to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Shy..." He spoke softly.

"Oi!" Poppy snapped as she appeared bearing a golden tray of cups and a large pot of piping hot cocoa. "No flames in the house. It's bad enough worrying about my own furnace, I don't need a walking flamethrower causing more trouble."

Shyvana looked over her shoulder, casting the furry, diminutive blue creature a frown. Poppy's ears stood up a bit taller, pivoting about as if they could sense the frown. Shyvana sighed, the flames dying as she stepped out of the doorway and turned towards Jarvan. The dragoness glared at him for a brief moment as a smile broke out over his face.

"Jarvan Lightshield!" She snapped, shocking the goofy grin from his face as he watched her take a step forward. He sat up straighter and looked to her with surprise on his face, obviously unsure about what to expect. Shyvana dived at him, launching herself forward as if she had been fired out of a cannon. The entire sofa rocked backwards as Shyvana furiously wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed with all her might. Jarvan's arms exploded out to the arms of the small couch, grasping desperately at them to try and balance himself as he kicked his legs out to try and keep the entire couch from tipping over backwards. He yelped in surprise as the sofa rocked back and then slammed down onto the floor. A side table had gone crashing backwards as well, shattering an empty teacup into a million pieces, several heavy texts crashing to the floor and a heavy china mug clattering across the floor boards.

"You great, big idiot!" Shyvana shouted, holding onto him as she pressed her face into his neck.

"It's good to see you too." Jarvan gasped, his face starting to turn purple.

"You may wish to let him go, Shyvana." Poppy said, setting the tray down on the coffee table. "He looks like he's about to suffocate."

Shyvana sat back, curling up in his lap, blushing slightly as Jarvan gasped for air. Luxanna, Delancey and Alicia all laughed as they poured into the room from the stairwell, piling their bags and coats next to the door at the yordle's insistence. They filed onto one of the Yordle's couches around the fireplace as Jarvan picked up the pieces of the broken cup, Shyvana curled into his side, tucking one of the couch's pillows into her lap. Poppy handed out steaming mugs from the tray she had produced.

"I'll be right back, I need to close up downstairs." Poppy said, eying the gaggle of Demacians who now sat in her parlor, each nursing a warm mug of cocoa. "Try not to destroy anything or light the curtains on fire." Poppy gave Shyvana a curious glare, but the dragoness blushed slightly and nodded, looking down into her lap until the Yordle rolled her eyes and disappeared down the staircase.

A few moments of silence followed.

"You know, you could have told me that you were planning this." Shyvana spoke to no one in particular and for a while no one spoke up in response. Jarvan grinned and the others simply ignored the comment. Shyvana pouted slightly, turning on Jarvan as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't like surprises." She looked down to her cup. "Usually." The gentle sound of laughter again filled the room.

"Don't take it out on them, it was my idea actually." Jarvan said, shrugging. "It was unfortunate that I had a meeting to attend, but I couldn't avoid it."

"What was the meeting about?" Alicia said, setting her half empty mug down on the coffee table. She loosened her scarf around her neck as she sat back stretching her legs.

Jarvan leaned forward, brushing Shyvana off just lightly enough that it was noticeable that it wasn't intended to be intentional, but under the scathing gaze of the other Demacians, the motion didn't go unnoticed. He frowned darkly for several long moments before he heaved a sigh and shook his head slightly. "Politics."

Delancey snorted aloud, nearly sending hot chocolate spewing out of her nose. She laughed aloud for several moments but, the stares from the others quickly silenced her. She rubbed her nose and then glanced to the ground. "Sorry." She took a sip from her cup to hide her nerves and then looked up to Jarvan. "You? Politics? You hate politics."

"I hate _messy_ politics." Jarvan corrected her with an angry frown. He slumped back and let Shyvana slide her hand into his. A mask of frustration slid onto his face as he glared at his lap. "You know what creates messy politics? Family. As far as families and messy politics go, I think I just about hit the jackpot. My father is the king, the world seems to be falling apart around me, and the politics... the politics are dragging me into the ground. There is a power struggle in the Demacian command structure that I've managed to get dragged into, and I'm getting frustrated with being a pawn in all of the games."

"You speak of Lorcan and Jormander, yes?" Luxanna said, looking to Jarvan. The prince nodded.

"I suppose I shouldn't talk about your boss in front of you though." Jarvan said with a begrudging grin. "You're probably under obligation to report anything and everything I say to him, yes?"

"The thought had crossed my mind, but I do have to say, Jormander is a jerk." Lux sneered, her normally smiley demeanor corroding to a brief moment of disgust and frustration. She took a deep breath and exhaled to calm herself. "He likes to micromanage. He nearly cost me my life when I was leaving Noxus because he wanted information a few days sooner than I was able to provide. One of his men tried to make contact before I left the city."

"We ran into similar troubles, but most of that was self-manufactured." Jarvan said, shrugging.

"Luckily, they were looking for a dragon and a hulking idiot." Shyvana said, grinning as she sat back, poking Jarvan in the arm.

He grinned and shrugged. "We got out safely."

"You nearly drowned me!" Shyvana balked, fitting Jarvan with a fiery gaze.

"I had forgotten about that…" Jarvan scratched his cheek nervously, wearing a guilty smile.

"I haven't." Shyvana said, shaking her head in mock disgust as she sat back.

"There are a LOT of details you left out of your report, aren't there…" Delancey said, shaking her head as she gave Jarvan an exasperated frown.

"It was complicated." Jarvan muttered, glancing away. "Regardless, what's past is past. I had a number of things to ask the ambassador, but unfortunately I haven't had the chance yet. You all arrived a bit sooner than I expected."

"Dragons are impatient creatures." Alicia said with a smile.

"I will have you know, Dragons are extremely patient creatures." Shyvana protested, sticking her nose up in the air.

"Luckily you're only half dragon, love." Jarvan said, chuckling softly. Shyvana blushed and nodded, again eliciting laughter from the others.

"So you hoped Ambassador Poppy could help you gain some sort of handle on the situation?" Luxanna said over the top of her cup of cocoa as the conversation started to die.

Jarvan nodded. "That was the idea, yes. However... many of the issues are vastly more complicated than I wish get involved in." Jarvan frowned as he glanced over at Shyvana. He met her gaze for a brief moment and then he had to glance away.

"What?" Shyvana said, tugging on his arm with frown. "Don't tell me your father has more issues with you and I…"

"For once, no." Jarvan said, shaking his head slightly as he frowned. "But it was something Lorcan told me. He spoke of how we, you and I, may face resistance at the hands of the Demacian people."

"Aye, steeped in tradition and rigid loyalty, the Demacian people." Alicia said with a nod, frowning thoughtfully. "They won't be easily swayed."

"What does that mean?" Shyvana said, frustration just starting to seep into her voice. She looked to Jarvan, pain in her eyes.

"I don't know, yet." Jarvan grunted softly, shaking his head. "It may not mean anything, it may mean everything." Shyvana sank back in her seat, pulling away from Jarvan with a glum expression. She brushed red hair from her face as she grimaced. Jarvan sighed heavily, sitting back. "It won't change anything between us, Shyvana." He spoke firmly, resolutely. "Nothing can change what we have, and I want you to know that. But it may delay things in the long run." He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

"I'd just stick to sleeping with each other for now." Delancey said, grinning like a preening cat. "Marriage will have to wait. Or you could just put out a poll if you want to judge public opinion."

"Bite your tongue." Jarvan snapped at the sergeant. He shook his head. "It's not like everyone knows who Shyvana is anyways. "

"You'd be surprised." Alicia said, grinning, winking at Shyvana. "Word of your exploits spread like wildfire when you returned, prince. It didn't take long for the rumors of the mysterious red head who returned with you to propagate. Hell, I think I heard an ongoing rumor about how Shyvana was Katarina du Couteau in disguise for a while. But then again, why the hell would you be with her?" Alicia laughed lightly. Jarvan and Shyvana glanced at each other, both of them remaining perfectly silent.

"That's crazy." Jarvan said, shaking his head to reinforce his words. "But I don't want to think about that right now." He tugged Shyvana over and kissed the crown of her head. The dragoness blushed slightly, but the rift between them narrowed noticeably. "It'll all work out in time, I have faith."

"What else was discussed at the meeting?" Shyvana asked, tucking into Jarvan's side, steering the conversation away from that topic. "I assume it was something to do with the move to Kalamanda soon?"

"That was supposed to be the focus of the meeting, yes, but things… didn't really go as planned." Jarvan said, looking to Delancey. She shot him a quizzical look. "What do you know about Wallace Lee?"

"Lee?" Delancey said, surprised, frowning. "Well, I know he's a Demsec agent who graduated two years before me at the academy." She paused, thinking. "He's had experience with the Military Police, served in the Freljord for a while, and uses some sort of mix of magic and sword play. I think. Oh, and he has a boyfriend?" She shrugged. "Looking back, I guess I don't actually know that much about him."

"Well Lorcan made a move on Jormander's command today at the meeting. When the issue of my interrogation and torture came up, Lee also came up." Jarvan grimaced. "As it turns out, the Wallace Lee we know isn't actually Wallace Lee. The real one died in the Freljord sometime last year."

Delancey's face blanked. "Then who… who have I been working with for the last three months?"

"Exactly." Jarvan said softly. "But that's only the tip of the iceberg. Between the bungle of Lee's identity and the issues that have arisen with me, Jormander lost his command due to all this negligence, and that effectively killed the meeting."

"So wait…" Delancey's shoulders sank and she shook her head in frustration. "What the hell is going on?"

"I'd say he was an assassin, but I still think he was defending me during the invasion of my room, and honestly, I don't know who the hell he is, or even what his goals were." Jarvan muttered through a mask of frustration.

"So what are you going to do now?" Alicia asked, crossing her legs in front of her.

"I'm not exactly sure why father wants me to go with him to Kalamanda, but I'm trying my best right now to understand." Jarvan frowned. "I'm going to continue helping Shyvana as best I can, but I'm getting to the point where I don't know what else I can do help." Shyvana smiled sweetly at him. "With the ball coming up at the end of the week though…"

"Though you would like to be ready for the move to Kalamanda mentally and politically by that point, yes?" Poppy said with a frown, stepping back into the room and posting her fists on her hips, a slightly agitated eyebrow perched on her furry face.

Jarvan nodded. "I don't know what father could want from me. I'm a soldier, not a politician."

"You seem to maintain an interesting view of what politics are, Prince Lightshield." Poppy said, sitting down in her chair and sighing heavily as she looking down into her cup. "Your family is heavily invested in the world's geopolitical environment, but you as the prince have only just barely scratched the surface of those depths. The growing tensions in the north, the conflict in Ionia, all of the recent politicking... it's all directly tied to your family in one way or another. You need to see that and you need to start taking responsibility." She took a sip of her cocoa, and frowned, setting the mug down on the small table next to her chair. "You're not a child anymore, and your father can see this. He wants you to start taking responsibility for your actions and he obviously wants you to start taking interest and responsibility within Demacia's political scene."

Jarvan clenched his fists and snarled, though the noise died in his throat. "But why? I don't want anything to do with it."

"Like it or not, your highness, you have an obligation to yourself, your name, your people and the legacy that you must fulfil." Poppy paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. "You are the _Prince_. You are going to be king one day, if you don't get yourself killed first." She shook her head and sighed. "Regardless, your father is trying to teach you how to be king; how to lead and rule a nation. If you don't start learning now, you're going to have a problem if you are ever forced into the position before you're ready."

"I know…" Jarvan grumbled, but he sat back, shaking his head as he sighed. "Why can't he just say that then? I may not be the best student, but I know how to learn."

"Knowing how to learn and actually learning are two completely different things." Poppy said with a sharp laugh. "You, young Prince Jarvan, have a reputation for stubbornness and an aversion to the book. You can't fight your way through politics, it doesn't work like that."

"Well, that's not entirely true." Lux said softly, a thin smile on her face. "My father describes politics as a heated war of words. Your mind and your tongue are your sword and shield, and the lines are even blurrier than that of the battlefield." Lux looked at the diminutive blue creature. "The battlefield may be the council chambers, but with every new player, a new agenda is introduced. There are no soldiers in politics, only smaller players."

"Aptly put." Poppy said, nodding her head slowly and sighing.

"Thank you." Jarvan said, nodding his head in Lux's direction, smiling. "See, not everyone has as little faith in me as you, ambassa-…"

"Jarvan, you're like a brother to me, but don't let my use of an analogy cloud the meaning." Lux said, raising a finger. "An analogy is merely a comparison between two dissimilar things, typically on the basis of their structure, used for the clarification of a point. In your case, I highly doubt your battle prowess will relate to prowess in in politics, though if your hotheadedness is any indication, you may face similar problems to what you've been up against in the past."

"You're not helping." Jarvan growled.

"And I'm not here to stroke your ego, Jarvan." Lux said said, glaring at him.

"I'll refrain from making the obvious joke about who strokes Jarvan's what for now." Delancey said with a thin grin, though it faded slightly as Jarvan sighed and Shyvana blushed furiously, fitting the sergeant with an angry glare.

"Mistress Crownguard has a point, though." Poppy said, shaking her head and ignoring Delancey's quip. "You need to actually start learning, your highness. Your father isn't going to be around forever, and antagonizing him at every turn and purposely trying to avoid getting involved in politics is only going to hold you back. You should embrace the fact that he is including you and do your best to learn what you can." Jarvan stared at the wooden floor, his chin resting on a fist, his elbow posted on his knee. "Kalamanda is a perfect region for your father to do this for you. The situation is both complicated and delicate. With the desire for a peaceful outcome, you and your father will have to be careful with your footing, but you do have the favorable advantage going into the region."

"You speak of my family's holdings within the Lodestone Mining Company, yes?" Jarvan said, looking up.

Poppy nodded. "Yes. See, you already are more valuable and more knowledgeable than you thought. Your very presence will show the Kalamandan people how interested Demacian is in the region's wellbeing."

Jarvan grunted, but didn't reply.

"I would offer to teach you more, but I fear all this talk of politics is far too serious." Poppy said, shaking her head as she slid off her chair, landing on her feet. "This room feels as if someone died in here." She clapped her hands together as she turned to Shyvana. "You came to inquire about armor, not politics, young lady, yes?" She posted her hands on her hips and looked to Shyvana. "I have several sets of armor for the likes of you."

"Several?" Shyvana said, blinking with surprise.

"Three in fact." Poppy said, nodding her head.

"I paid for two." Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

"Yes, well, the first one was a proof of concept, and the other two came afterwards." Poppy said, shrugging. "I'll throw the first in because it's actually the only full set so far. The other two are going to take more time to finish polishing and developing some of the finer pieces. One is close enough to try out, but the other is still in pieces. If you'll follow me, young lady, and perhaps a friend to help with the fitting, we can get started." Poppy glanced over and looked at Jarvan. "Your highness, if you and the others would like to wait out back, we're going to have to test the thermal expansion and such in the courtyard." She glanced around the room. "I do like this room as it is."

"Sounds good." Jarvan said, nodding his head. He looked to Shyvana and gave her a quick kiss as he started to the door. "We'll be waiting."

"I think I'll follow you." Lux said, getting to her feet, setting the empty cup and saucer on the table. Delancey got to her feet as well and followed the prince, her hand resting on her weapon as she glanced back at Shyvana.

"I assume you're staying on protection detail, Del?" Alicia said looking at her. The sergeant nodded.

"I've been informed that I need to keep a tighter leash on Jarvan." Delancey said, nodding. "I'll _also_ refrain from taking all of Shyvana's fun from her, but you know what I mean." Delancey winked in the dragoness's direction and Shyvana blushed, but she stuck her tongue out at the sergeant as Jarvan, Lux and Delancey headed out of the room and down the stairs. As soon as they were on the ground floor, Jarvan sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face, grimacing.

"Is everything alright, sir?" Delancey said as she rounded the bottom of the steps and headed out the doors into the courtyard. "You seem uncomfortable. Everything okay between you and Shyvana?"

"Yeah, we're fine." Jarvan grumbled. "I just don't like this. All this sneaking around, dealing with politicians and their crap..." Jarvan shook his head and grunted as he leaned against a heavy post of the awning that shielded Poppy's workspace from the elements in the massive courtyard.

"It's not sneaking, Jarvan." Luxanna said, shaking her head. "It's an art of warfare unlike anything you've ever had to deal with. Every word is an arrow fired, every sentence can cost a soldier his life, a platoon their freedom, a nation their sovereign independence. It is a war held on the razors edge and Jarvan, you should probably start taking notes." Luxanna said, a moment of weary exhaustion dropping upon her face. She ran a hand over her face, and as she looked up to Jarvan, he could see the pain gripping her soul, grasping at her heart. Her eyes were an empty, dead blue. "That 'sneaking' around is the easy part. Because if in the art of infiltration, subterfuge and espionage... well, when you get caught, you die... _eventually_. You don't get to argue or fight your way out... you simply die." Luxanna's hands had convulsed into fists. She looked up to Jarvan as tears began to drip down her cheeks. "Consider yourself so lucky that you only have to deal with this... _soft_ warfare."

"What happened to you Lux...?" Jarvan said softly, taking her cheek in hand and wiping a tear away with his thumb. "You used to be such a happy-go-lucky kid... you never let even the smallest thing get you down." An ironic grin slid onto Jarvan's face. "Well, except when Garen and I would leave you behind on our adventures."

Lux snorted as a smile slid onto her face. "You always were a pompous jerk, not to mention hard to deal with."

"Please tell me that statement is followed up by 'I know this better than anyone' because I always love a juicy threeway romance." Delancey said grinning excitedly. Jarvan took a step back as Lux laughed aloud.

"You always knew how to make me laugh, Del." Luxanna said, smiling. She looked up to Jarvan. "Some time when I feel up to it, I'll tell you what I've been through. You're not the only one who's had a long two years."

"Promise?" Jarvan said, coughing into his hand.

Luxanna nodded, smiling sweetly. "Some time. For now though, I do believe we have a show to see."

Shyvana stepped out of Poppy's shop, wearing a set of bright red and gold armor. The helm had two massive horns that curved out and upwards behind her head, two smaller horns that crested the top of her head. The chest plate wrapped over her shoulders and under her arms, forming a V-like point that came down along her sternum. Large shoulder guards protected the top of her shoulders and the vambraces were larger than before and equally vicious looking. One was tipped with sharpened spikes for striking and ripping, though the shield on it was still large enough to cover a decent part of her body. The smaller manifer wasn't formed so much to look like that of a dragon's head, but it was large enough to cover her body if she needed. There was hip armor and tassets that ran down Shyvana's thighs and armored boots that came up to her knees. Heavy material like canvas served to hold some of the armor plates in place, mostly along her chest and her hips. Her hair had been braided and fed into a multi-jointed armored tail of sorts that fell along her back. Poppy had said it was important for when she transformed.

"It's a little auspicious, don't you think?" Shyvana said, looking down at herself.

"The bright red looks good on you." Delancey said, clapping and grinning.

"You think?" Shyvana looked down at herself and the red and gold armor covering her blue uniform.

"Its got its charm." Jarvan said, grinning, looking at Shyvana. "Though I don't know, is the uniform underneath really necessary?"

"It'd be a bit revealing if I did that though..." Shyvana said, blushing.

"Exactly." Jarvan chuckled as the dragoness blushed more fiercely.

"This will be the most responsive of the armors." Poppy said, nodding to herself as she tucked a small booklet into her jacket, moving past Jarvan and his jests. "It should be attuned to your temperature the best of all of them, considering its pure material."

"I've never heard of a material that can transform from shape to shape with simple heat input." Luxanna said, tapping a finger on her chin. "What is it?"

"Dragon scale, mostly." Poppy said, grinning.

Shyvana looked horrified for a second, but she looked down at the armor and then back over to the small, white haired armorer. "Whose scales are these?"

"The dragon you and the prince killed on the outskirts of Noxus." Poppy said, smiling. "A fitting trophy, don't you think?"

"Gruesome." Delancey said with a grin. "I like it. The skin of your enemy is now the armor that will protect you? It has a bit of vicious irony too it, doesn't it."

"It does, yes..." Shyvana said, looking down at the armor. She shivered at the thought of wearing Kampf's skin, she could almost feel the bloody intent pouring off it. She looked down at the chest plate, it was almost as if blackened steam was pouring off it. "I don't know about this one..."

"You haven't even tried to transform yet." Poppy said, slightly downtrodden. "If nothing else I need something to tune to the other armors off of, so you might as well give it a shot. You're going to need to get pretty hot for it to work, though, so you might want to step into the center of the courtyard.

"Go on, Shyvana." Luxanna said, smiling prettily. "I think the red goes well with your hair."

Shyvana blushed slightly, but nodded her head once, stepping out from under the awning. She crunched through the snow and out into the center of the courtyard. She looked to Jarvan, a faint frown on his face, his eyes drifting towards the blonde haired mage.

_They were friends as children, yes?_ Shyvana blushed as she felt the heat begin to rise under her collar as she watched Jarvan's eyes flicker to her for a brief moment and then his face went slack for a brief moment before he offered her a smile. _Is there something rekindled between them? _Shyvana shook her head, took a deep breath and then closed her eyes. She felt the power begin to flow through her veins as the fire begin to sparkle and steam around her body. The uniform she wore fluttered and flapped as the column of heat and flames began to rise above her like a shear column of warm air, sending snow billowing upwards. Steam poured from the ground around her as fire began to boil along the ground. It came seeping up from between the paving slabs as the fire began to boil in her veins as well. Shyvana hunched over and grasped at her helmeted head as the horns burst from her skull, sliding up and back into her helmet. She snarled in pain as she dropped to her knees. She opened her eyes, as the flames that poured from her blue skin burned away the uniform. The heavy material was left holding the armor in place as the last of the cloth fluttered away, rising in the column of steam and smoke pouring off of her body.

"Okay... that's just terrifyingly hot." Alicia muttered from the sidelines.

Shyvana looked down at her arms, the bluish skin rippling with her muscles and the faint outline of scales as flames seeped from beneath the light armored plates. She could feel power and heat pouring from her body, the steam caressing her skin.

She stepped forward, watching as Poppy, Luxanna, Alicia and Delancey all took cautious steps backwards. Shyvana felt both anger and regret start to swirl in her chest, but Jarvan stood, watching her, his arms crossed over his chest with a thin grin. He nodded again and Shyvana felt her cheeks blush slightly as she nodded. She turned up the heat as she closed her eyes and exhaled several times. She snarled as she poured off heat, waiting till she felt the armor around her begin to expand to let her transformation take over. She felt her bones snap and splinter, reknitting as her muscles expanded and moved the bones into place. The armor seemed to dissolve in places, dragging across her body like molten steel. It slithered along her body as she expanded, claws bursting from her hands as her arms twisted about and folded backwards. Her nose expanded to a snout and her teeth grew to massive fangs. Shyvana took several steps forwards, shaking the disorientation of wearing the armor off. She almost felt trapped by the snug fit, but as she shook her head, the armor did not move. She stamped her arms and feet in turn, and spreading her wings out. She brushed snow from the windows of the houses that lined the courtyard, and she shook her head again. She lowered herself down towards the ground, looking at the others.

"It fits well." She rumbled softly, craning her neck back to look over herself. The armor ran from her head, over her snout and back down along her body to the tip of her tail. She whipped it about several times, surprised by the weight of the armor. "It's kind of heavy though."

"The material is very dense, but extremely strong." Poppy stated matter-of-factly as she stepped up, book and pencil in hand as she started moving around Shyvana, looking at all the various little connections and details. Shyvana grunted in surprise, bathing Jarvan in a cloud of steam as he stepped forward, waving a hand in front of his face as he looked her over. "If it is too heavy I could try and thin it out..." Poppy tapped the pencil against her chin momentarily and then shrugged. "Not by too much though. Does it hurt or chafe anywhere?"

Shyvana wagged her head back and forth. "It's beautifully made and your craftsmanship is exquisite, ambassador."

"Thank you!" Poppy said, beaming. "All of the measurements look to have fit properly and I can't see any other problem areas we'll need to deal with either. I suppose the color is a bit ostentatious, but it is natural to the scales when tempered and formed."

"Now how do I get back to normal?" Shyvana said, looking back over her shoulder and grimacing at some of the heavy armor plates that ran down her back. It's not going to come crashing down to the ground around me when I shrink, is it?"

"It shouldn't." Poppy said, tucking her book away and posting her tiny fist upon her hips. "It might feel like it's falling off, but I had a court mage help with a constriction charm that doesn't let it shrink until you do. That said, if you do get too cold, like in this weather, it might not shrink properly if you're not careful."

"I see." Shyvana rumbled. "Well let's try this real quick." She exhaled slowly, and she felt the armor seem towards her skin like it was slithering along her body. She felt her body begin to shrink, the bones breaking and reforming, her muscles shrinking and the scales retracting back into her body. She was left kneeling on the ground, the armor shimmering a brilliant orange around her blue skin. She felt her body begin to cool as she exhaled several more times, letting her body calm and cool. She shivered as the liquid metal reformed around her, solidifying into the armor she had been wearing before. She stood up straight, her knees wobbling slightly beneath her as she exhaled a cloud of steam in the cool evening air as snow began to drift down around her.

"Well, as a proof of concept it definitely works." Shyvana said, looking down at herself and blushing. The red metal was tight around her waist and chest, brushing against her in odd places that caused her to blush.

"What, you don't think a bright red armored bikini is a good idea to wear in the royal court?" Delancey said, sniggering. Shyvana shot her a rueful look as Shyvana stepped up to Jarvan, letting him sweep his cloak around her shoulders as she stood shivering in the snow.

"I think it's attractive." Jarvan said with a thin grin, looking Shyvana up and down as she blushed, pulling the cloak around her. "Ouch!" Jarvan jumped as Shyvana jabbed him in the side.

"You just like looking at me." Shyvana grumbled quietly.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't." Jarvan whispered, chuckling softly.

"Hey you two, keep out of each other's pants." Alicia shouted, posting her hands on her hips. "We've got another set to try out."

"Yeah, yeah." Jarvan said, blushing lightly as he started towards the awning.

"Alicia!" Shyvana hissed angrily, but the color in the dragoness's cheeks betrayed the truth behind her nerves.

"I'm the body guard, not the chaperone." Delancey said, raising her hands. "As long as they get back to Jarvan's room, they can do whatever they want!" The sergeant wore a cat like grin as steam simmered from the top of Shyvana's head.

"You guys are jerks!" Shyvana said, pouting slightly. Delancey and Alicia laughed aloud, and though she didn't join in, Shyvana shared Lux's smile.

"Come along now before you catch a cold, young'n." Poppy said handing a cloak over to Shyvana and gesturing she follow along. Jarvan released her from his cloak and helped her wrap the other cloak around her shoulders as she headed for the door, almost excitedly. Alicia and Poppy followed in her wake, disappearing into the house, leaving Delancey, Jarvan and Lux along again.

"You two are quite the couple aren't you?" Lux said, leaning against the forge, letting what little heat poured from the dying coals keep her warm.

"I think they are." Delancey said gleefully. "I have fun teasing them about everything. Hasn't been a dull moment since they got back."

"Especially since you and Forsythe hooked up, right?" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You?" Lux said incredulously, blinking several times as she cracked a smile. "Del and a _man_? Together? As in a _couple?" _Lux chuckled softly behind her hand as Delancey's face turned beat red. Lux looked to Jarvan and he simply shrugged.

"I asked you not to tell anyone!" Delancey protested, a sour look on her face as she glared at Jarvan.

"Maybe you should try not to make a habit of making fun of Shyvana and I then." Jarvan said shrugging innocently. Delancey muttered something under her breathe, but she crossed her arms over her chest, turned her head and remained quiet.

Luxanna laughed and smiled, and Jarvan grinned back at her as he sighed in an exaggerated manner. "Kids. Think they know everything."

"Funny, coming from you." Luxanna said, grinning. Jarvan waved her off and rolled his eyes. "Still, it's good to see you finally found someone for yourself. You never really seemed interested in that sort of thing when you at the academy. Hell, you never looked at me even in the slightest. Almost made me self-conscious."

"Wait... you mean..." Jarvan said, blinking several times before he shook his head. "I remember you saying how thick I was." He swatted at Delancey as she opened her mouth. She squeak and tumbled over, glaring daggers at Jarvan. "Hush, you. As I was saying, I know I wasn't exactly observant, but you? Really?"

Luxanna laughed. "Once upon a time, maybe, but that was long ago. That's not a tale worth retelling." Lux said, punching Jarvan's shoulder and grinning. "Your head is plenty big, and besides, it seems our company has returned!" She clapped excitedly as Shyvana stepped out in dark armor.

The armor was cut similar to standard Demacian lines, but there were numerous places it had been slimmed down to better follow Shyvana's limber musculature. She was slightly taller than average for a woman of her age, but not by much, and Poppy had obviously noted, or had heard the stories of how Shyvana fought, with an emphasis on her upper arms and fast, vicious strikes, rather than the slow and lumbering, but powerful, assaults common among most Demacian soldiers.

Shyvana looked up to Jarvan and grinned, tugging on the armored collar slightly. Heavy scale mail lined her arms, legs and all of the joints of her body, with large armored plates covering most of her body. Darkened metal vambraces, pauldrons, tassets, faulds, a tight fitting cuirass that wrapped around her stomach, back and chest, as well as full grieves covered her body completely. A short blue skirt rode down behind her, covering her rear. Leather-looking straps held everything in position, and there was a surprising amount of cleavage showing along her front. Shyvana blushed slightly when she caught Jarvan's eye. Poppy obviously noticed, because she grinned and poked Shyvana in the leg.

"She's obviously been eating well." Poppy said, shaking her head. "She's put on a little weight, and she's not so painfully thin now." Shyvana blushed furiously turning away from the prince as she held her hands over her chest. The armored gauntlets sere small than the first set, and looked decisively more like a dragon's head.

"I can't actually take responsibility for that one." Jarvan said with a smirk. He looked over to Alicia who grinned and shrugged.

"She eats more than anyone I've ever met." Alicia said, laughing. "Feed her once and she ready to eat again in a matter of hours."

"Of course I'm always hungry!" Shyvana snarled defensively, blushing as she crossed her arms over her chest. "All we do is train, train, train. It makes me hungry."

"Maybe you'd like to go eat after this?" Jarvan suggested. Shyvana beamed happily as she turned and nodded excitedly, blushing a deep red as Alicia, Poppy, Delancey and Lux laughed at her enthusiasm.

"Hold on, you're not quite done." Poppy said, slightly crossly. "We need to check to see if this armor will transform properly. This armor is a mix of high carbon steel and dragon scale, so it's going to be a bit finicky to get right. It might be overly sensitive to temperatures right now."

"What sort of fluctuations are we talking about here?" Shyvana said, looking down at the armor. "It fits perfectly, and I don't know if I can get much hotter than before..."

"Not that sort of fluctuations." Poppy said, shaking her head. "Say something makes you angry and you get a bit warm. You don't want the armor just falling off you, do you? It may fit well, but the transformation makes it difficult to get just right."

"Hmm..." Jarvan said, thoughtfully. He stepped forward and grabbed Shyvana's hands and pulled her back out into the middle of the courtyard, and took both of her hands in his.

"Jarvan?" Shyvana said questioningly, her voice small as she looked up at him.

Jarvan leaned in and kissed Shyvana fiercely, taking her by surprise. She blushed furiously as Jarvan kissed her, heat radiating from her body. The armor suddenly expanded, melding and reforming into its draconian shape, but it clattered to the ground around her in a heap of leather, metal and fabric. Shyvana looked down at her body as her face went beet red, her hands leaping to her chest and below as she collapsed, trying to shield herself.

"Jarvan!" Shyvana yelped, left without anything on. Jarvan boomed a surprised laugh as he stepped over the pile of armor and swept the shivering, angry looking dragoness up under his cloak. He pulled her close and wrapped his cloak over her, blushing, a cheeky grin on his face. Shyvana's fury slowly subsided as she wrapped her arms around Jarvan. She wore a rueful expression as she extended her arm and then struck Jarvan in the side.

"Ow!" The prince hissed, glaring at Shyvana, though he couldn't keep an angry expression on his face.

"I don't think I quite expected that..." Poppy murmured, the fur on her ears standing on end as she looked surprised. "But yeah, that exactly what I was worried about."

"I think you need to adjust the heat charm a bit." Jarvan said with a grin, looking down and meeting Shyvana's fiercely blushed scowl with a cheeky grin. He leaned down and pecked her on the forehead, unclasping his cloak so she could keep it wrapped around her shoulders.

"Me too." Poppy said, shaking her head as she picked up a piece of armor and looked at it as if shrunk back to its normal size. "I'll get to work on it right away."

Alicia leaned in towards Delancey. "I don't think I've ever seen a move that slick before." Delancey nodded, a bit of disbelief still on her face, though she wore an impressed grin as well.

"He got her out of her clothes in a single kiss." Delancey snorted. "I think that's _got_ to be some kind of record."


	39. Chapter 38: Teamfight

Delancey yawned as she ran her hands over her face, blinking as she tried to clear the sleep from her eyes. She smacked her lips a few times as she looked about the empty parade field located just outside the barracks. The sound of metal clips clanking against the distant metal flagpoles was the only sound that could be heard over the low howl of the wind. Delancey grunted a greeting as Forsythe approached, his sword hanging over his back and his shield tossed over his shoulder, both held in place with a leather belt that ran across his chest. His helmet clanked upon his belt with every other step he took, a knit cap pulled down over his head, his shaggy, pale blonde hair poking out from underneath. He waved a cheery greeting to Delancey and then saluted smartly.

"Who are you—AH!" Delancey yelped and jumped when she saw Jarvan standing next to her. "How... when..." She shook her head, holding a hand over her chest. "You scared the hell out of me, sir. When did you get here?"

Jarvan grinned. "I've been standing here for the past five minutes." Jarvan took a few moments to adjusted his armored tassets, fiddling with his belt and the metal links. "I said good morning and everything."

"Oh." Delancey said, blushing lightly as she bowed. "Apologies, sir. Good morning." Jarvan chuckled lightheartedly, satisfied with his armor as he stood up a bit straighter, his attention turning to the surprised look on Forsythe's face.

"Something the matter, Forsythe?" Jarvan asked. The corporal's brow creased slightly as he looked around, surprise sliding onto his face.

"No Sergeant Major this morning?" Forsythe asked, glancing behind Jarvan, as if the prince was hiding him somewhere. "It's as if your shadow were missing..."

"Nope." Jarvan said, grinning crookedly. "He's looking into a few things for me right now. Just some routine stuff that needed taking care of." He chuckled softly, his breath condensing before him. "It was the only way I could get away from him."

Forsythe nodded, looking over to where Delancey yawned massively. "You look like hell, Del." Forsythe said with a cheeky grin as he pulled his weapons belt over his shoulder and lowered it to the ground next to him, resting his hands atop the large, vaguely rectangular shield. An odd collection of weapons slid along the leather belt, most of which looked foreign and strange. The shield looked vicious at closer look, despite the relatively innocuous appearance. It was a standard issue Demacian shield at first glance, heavily dented and bruised by sword and ax strikes, but there was an out of place sheen along the bottom edge where it had been sharpened to a razor's edge. "Not enough sleep last night?"

"I don't know how you and Shyvana do it." Delancey moaned, looking at the bright eyed and excited looking Shyvana as she approached, trudging through the snow. She wore the heavy red armor over her standard blue uniform, a flame tattered cloak wrapped around her shoulders. She smiled at the others around her as she stopped, steam beginning to rise around her as she stood in the almost knee deep snow. "When do you find the time to sleep?"

"Whenever and wherever I can." Forsythe said with a grin. He ran his hand along the side of his face, across some blond stubble and over the large scar carved across the left side of his face. He fished this helmet from the weapons belt and picked it up, wiping a bit of ice from the shining metal surface. He slid it onto his head and seated it properly, running his fingers over the left side of the visor, where a black eye patch was barely visible under the T-shaped visor. Forsythe pulled his helmet off, the knit cap coming off with it, revealing a shock of pale, sandy blonde hair. He shook his hair out as he removed and tucked his knit cap into his belt, tugging his hair out of his eyes as he adjusted the eye patch and then pulled the helm back on. "It's nice being able to just kick back wherever, whenever I want. Probably the only real advantage to office work."

"So that's why you got busted the other day then?" Delancey smirked, raising an eyebrow as she fit Forsythe with a stern glare. The massive young soldier withered slightly under her exacting gaze, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Maybe…" Forsythe replied with a chuckle.

Jarvan exhaled sharply through his nose, grinning. "Falling asleep on the job as always, eh, Forsythe?" The prince shook his head, though his smile only grew. "It's good to know some things never change."

"What can I say?" Forsythe shrugged. "I'm not constantly looking over my shoulder for once. Any spare time I get is a good time for a nap."

"I wish I had more times for naps." Shyvana said with a small smile playing across her lips. "Just being able to stretch out under the sun and falling asleep, that's something I miss from Shurima. The sun was always so warm…"

"I've got to ask, Jarvan." Delancey said, a smile growing as she saw the prince sigh and roll his eyes, preparing for the worst. "Does she purr when you rub her belly?" Shyvana blushed as Forsythe let his head hang back and bellowed a hearty laugh. He leaned in towards Delancey.

"She usually moans, actually." Forsythe murmured just loud enough for Shyvana to overhear them. "You should have heard the last night before we returned to the city... I don't think anyone in the inn got any sleep that night."

"Forsythe… you… you…" Steam now billowed angrily from around Shyvana, the ice and snow now rapidly rising skyward in a spiral, like a steam filled winter vortex. Her face was beet red and her fists quivered in a mix of embarrassment and anger. Her eyes were a violent gold upon fields of black and as Shyvana snarled, bearing her teeth, blue scales creeping up along her cheek bones. Flames began to swirl around her, sparks and heat crackling amid the steam. Her clothes began to billow as lines of orange and gray appeared along the cloth of the uniform where it was pressed against her skin. "You are _SO _dead!" Shyvana snarled with a vicious grin as smoke swirled with the steam and the ashen remains for the uniform fell away. Shyvana smiled at the look of sheepish mock terror that Forsythe wore. Shyvana laughed as the flames died and Forsythe wiped his brow in a show of exaggerated relief.

"I will say, Shyvana, if nothing else, you can simply scare away any enemies that come to oppose you." Forsythe chuckled and Shyvana smiled. "It'll definitely work on any suitors that Jarvan has." Shyvana blinked several times, her brow creasing as she glared at the corporal.

"Well, both of them are game for this idea." Delancey said, giggling as she looked to Jarvan, his cheeks tinged a deeper red than the sting of the wind should have produced. "But Prince Jarvan, are you sure this is a good idea?" Delancey asked, hefting her saber. "I mean... last time you were hurt, you got shot and we are standing in the middle of a very open, very large field..." She glanced at Forsythe and he shrugged, cracking his neck.

"He can hide behind me if he's scared." Forsythe chuckled.

"You're funny, Forsythe. Remind me next time we're getting shot at so you can take the first bolt." Jarvan said, grinning. "I think having a friendly fight is a pretty good idea. I'd like some sort of measure by which to judge my own skill since all I've been doing is training with Shyvana and attending meetings lately. Oh, and I've been looking for an excuse to shamelessly beat the life out of Delancey for constantly heckling Shyvana and I."

"Yeah, yeah." Delancey said, waving a hand dismissively as she started checking over her gear. "You can try. Good luck."

"You know, I've always wanted to try fighting Shyvana." Forsythe said, an excited grin on his face.

"And I need to thank you two for waking me up so rudely." Shyvana said, flexing her hands around her gauntlets as she grinned. "I never got to express my gratitude for that."

Jarvan slapped a fist into the palm of his hand. "That's right! I never had the chance to get back at the two of you for all the grief I caught for what you did to the infirmary wing of the Academy's Medical School."

"Come on, boss, you're still holding that against me?" Forsythe grumbled, his grin infectious.

"Beat me and I'll drop the issue." Jarvan said, raising his hand and beckoning for the sergeant and the corporal to come forth. "Unless you're too afraid, that is..."

"Oh hell no." Forsythe said, raising his sword and shield and grinning as he slapped the blade over the front of his shield. "Call it, boss."

Jarvan looked to Shyvana and grinned when she nodded. "Ready or not, time to kick ass!"

"Sir, that's not how the saying..." Delancey yelped as Shyvana charged forward, her gauntlet coming down, directly aimed at Delancey's head. She brought her sword up, catching the blow as it came down like the swing of a hammer. The force of Shyvana's blow sent her barreling backwards, her boots sliding on the snow and grass beneath her feet. She hit a bank of snow that hadn't melted, sending her crashing backwards. Delancey ended up lain out, flat on her back as Shyvana turned towards Jarvan and Forsythe.

Jarvan had charged forward to meet Forsythe to keep him from connecting with Delancey. Jarvan extended his lance, letting the explosive speed catch Forsythe by surprise. Forsythe stepped forward and to the side, raising the shield and letting the lance spark and glance past as he ran forward at Jarvan. In a single fluid motion, Forsythe slid the sword from his free hand to his shield arm, produced a tomahawk from his belt and let it fly. He spun as Jarvan ducked back out of the way of the tomahawk, using the momentary lapse in stance to force Jarvan's lance further back. He dropped the blade, catching it in his free hand and let it drop low, swinging it back as he continued to hold off the princes lance and charge. He came in low and slow with his sword held back and to the side so as to strike at the prince. Jarvan snarled in surprise, shifting his footing to heave the lance about, trying to force Forsythe aside with a jerk of his weapon. The corporal's footing was too good though and Jarvan couldn't lever him off balance. Jarvan slapped the trigger as the lance started to coil inwards, the hissing of the blades retracting. Jarvan spun about, bringing the lance around his back, aiming at Forsythe's head with the butt of the weapon. Forsythe tried to stop abruptly and started to slide, bringing his shield up to catch the armored butt of the prince's lance. The force of the blow slammed Forsythe onto his back as Jarvan bounced away, struggling to control the mass of his lance as it tried to rip away from him.

Jarvan landed on his feet after a sloppy flip, driving the blade of his lance into the ground to keep him for sliding any further. Forsythe slammed his sword into the ground to slow his own slide, and tucked his knees to his chest and extended them rapidly, his body rocking up to his feet. Forsythe stood up straighter, shaking off some ice as and jerked his sword for the ground, charging forward as Jarvan started to bring up his weapon.

"Heads up!"

Forsythe and Jarvan both turned to look as Shyvana came barreling in, her armored gauntlet striking Forsythe's blind side and sending him cartwheeling backwards as Jarvan grinned and nodded his thanks to Shyvana. She blew the prince a kiss as she slid to a stop, raising her guard as Forsythe crashed to the ground. The young soldier struggled up this time, not recovering as quickly or as gracefully as before.

"That was a dirty trick!" Forsythe spat, looking up at Shyvana as she shrugged, keeping her guard up and summoning flames around her gauntlets. The flames crept skyward, seeping upwards menacingly.

"Not really, you just need to be more aware of your surroundings." Shyvana said evenly, casting an arm back and throwing out a cloud of flames. Forsythe snarled as he dropped down behind his shield, tucking his head as the flames washed over him. He pushed himself up, raising his shield as Shyvana barreled down on him, swinging her arm, a furious expression on her face as she snarled. Her gauntlet struck Forsythe's shield, the two fang like prongs punching through the armored plating and sending Forsythe stumbling backwards against the force of the blow. Shyvana corrected her footing, her body swinging around as she cocked her arm back for another attack, the corporal grimacing as he raised his shield again. Shyvana poured flames and punches into Forsythe's shield, steady forcing the corporal back as he struggled to keep his guard up. Shyvana snarled as she raised both of her fists back, a ball of flames swirling between them. Forsythe raised his shield and gritted his teeth as the blow struck, slamming the shield into his head and tossing him backwards.

Delancey rolled out of the way as Jarvan's lance crashed down where she had been standing, an explosion of ice, water and dirt showering them both as the crack of the lance echoed about the open field. She hissed as she slid in the ice and wet grass, her sword held away from her body as she reached over her shoulder and let three knives fly. Jarvan dropped his shoulder and let one knife bounce off his armor, the other two cutting through the air above him. He growled as she retracted his lance, raising it vertical as he slammed the butt down into the ground, sending a standard arcing through the air towards Delancey. She yelped as she kicked herself backwards, the standard dropping into the dirt between her legs. She hissed in surprise, looking up at Jarvan and then instantly regretting the wasted time.

"Shit." She muttered as Jarvan extended his lance and hooked one of the barbs on the standard. "This is going to hurt." She started to scramble out of the way, but Jarvan had already hit the trigger and the lance was dragging him rapidly towards the sergeant. She was on fours trying to get clear, but Jarvan was sliding forward, a knee tucked into his chest. His kick connected the Delancey's side.

"Shy! Up!"

The dragoness instantly put one foot up and in a cloud of steam she kicked off of Forsythe's shield, arcing up through the air in a back flip as Delancey's body went flying underneath her. Forsythe had just started to get to his feet when Delancey crashed into him, sending them both tumbling to the ground in a heap of armor and steam.

Shyvana landed and grinned as she stood up, looking at the two fallen soldiers as the struggled, groans and coughing coming from the Forsythe and Delancey. Jarvan approached her, dropping the butt of his lance down as he let a thin smile slide onto his face. He raised his vambrace and Shyvana slapped her own vambrace against it in salute as she walked around behind him, looking at Del and Forsythe as they finally started to untangle themselves from the ground.

"Nice shot." Shyvana said with a grin. Jarvan shrugged but he nodded.

"It was a pretty good kick." He chuckled softly as Delancey coughed some blood onto the ground. "You okay Del? Need me to call the Doc already?"

"It doesn't hurt in the least." Delancey snarled through gritted teeth.

"We can call it if you two are done already." Shyvana said, laughing playfully. She rested an arm upon Jarvan's shoulder, leaning against him as she watched the others struggle to their feet. "How about you Forsythe, you still want to go?"

The massive young soldier grimaced as he pulled his helmet off, blood dripping from is brow. He glanced at the helmet and then wiped the blood away, tossing the helmet away. He picked his shield up off the ground and then slapped it twice with his sword to remove the ice from the face of it. He wiped his lips on his gauntlet and then dropped into a defensive position, his guard raised.

"I need you to take care of Jarvan, I can't deal with the range of his lance." Delancey said as she winced, a hand held over her stomach. She spat blood on the ground and then brushed her hair from her face, keeping her sword held away from her body, between the prince and herself. "I have an idea."

"You okay to keep going?" Forsythe said, looking over at her. She nodded curtly, a twisted smile forming on her lips.

"Just trust me, I've got a plan." She smiled as she showed him something in a pocket and a smile broke over Forsythe's face.

"Roger that." He said, raising his sword as he started in wide circle that put Jarvan between him and Shyvana. Delancey did the same, starting around in the opposite direction.

"Looks like they're going to try and divide and conquer." Jarvan said softly, raising his lance. "Watch your back and call for help if you need it."

"I'll be waiting for your call." Shyvana said with a coy grin. Jarvan snorted as he cast her a confident grin over his shoulder and settled into a fighting stance, drawing his lance up onto his pauldron, dropping his shoulder and charging out to meet Forsythe. Shyvana spread her gauntlets as she charged out to meet Delancey, flames boiling in the air behind her and she charged through the snow.

Delancey grabbed a pair of knives threw them as she dove, rolling into Shyvana's charge. Shyvana had raised her guard to block the knives as Delancey collided with the ground, just inside her charge, but Shyvana snarled, her flames flaring up as she dropped one gauntlet into the ground, digging up mud and grass beneath the snow as she slid to a stop. Shyvana grabbed the sergeant and rolled across her own body, hauling Delancey off the ground and over her body, but Delancey managed to hook the blade of her saber under Shyvana's shoulder plate and yanked the dragoness along with her. Delancey hung onto the blade as Shyvana toppled, continuing to drag the dragoness down, but the blade snapped after a few moments, sending Shyvana and Delancey crashing to the ground.

Shyvana tried to recover mid fall, but she hit the snow leading with her hip and the impact of her legs striking legs and her head snapping towards the ground caused her to snarl in anger. She was slower getting up than she intended, the disorientation of the new armor causing her ears to ring as she looked about for the sergeant. Delancey had managed to tuck and roll when the blade snapped, casting the hilt out of her way as she fell. She hit slightly harder than she intended, but she had managed to tuck her shoulder in and roll onto her feet, stumbling only slightly as she took long strides and turned about to face Shyvana.

Crimson blood dripped down her arm, and as Shyvana pulled the bloodied piece of saber from the gap between her arm and her shoulder pauldron. Delancey blinked a few times, watching in awe as Shyvana threw the blade aside and then clenched her fist in fury, the flames burning higher.

"You okay? Need me to call a doctor?" Delancey said in a mocking tone as she produced her falcata sword from her belt, the short bladed weapon much lighter in hand. The blade was half that of her saber, and while it wasn't much lighter as far as the weight went, it was easier to maneuver due to the shorter length. The lightly hooked blade tended toward the ground, but Delancey spun the weapon in a provocative flourish, offering Shyvana a grin that quickly fizzled out.

Shyvana snarled aloud and sunk slightly in her stance, fire starting to pour from her wounded arm. The tendrils of orange flame licked her skin, drifting upwards, the air filling with the stench of burnt meat. Shyvana snarled in pain, but the vicious sound was disturbing even to Delancey. Her sword had fallen to her side in both fear and awe.

"You sealed your wounds with your own fire…" Delancey murmured as Shyvana shook off the pain and straightened up. The dragoness looked cross, but as Delancey started to ask if Shyvana was alright, the dragoness exploded forward in a flame-fueled charge.

Delancey brought her sword up in a defensive stance as Shyvana launched a fury of blows, skittering backwards through the snow, struggling to keep her footing as strike after strike bounced from her blade. Delancey growled against the hard push, dropping her blade low and beating the Dragoness's strike up and to the side. Delancey stepped into the charge, taking Shyvana by surprise as she connected her armored shoulder with Shyvana chest plate. The dragoness bounced backwards, dancing out of range of the sergeants follow up strike. She slid in the snow, dropping down to all fours and clawing at the ground with her gauntlets to slow herself. She charged again with a vicious snarl, launching a flurry of blows that Delancey easily bounced back. Left, right, left again, Delancey danced the blades about, slapping Shyvana's attack back or just out of the way. She started to block the next blow, but Shyvana planted her foot to stop her advance. Delancey cursed as she tried to turn the failed anticipation into a swing at Shyvana's waist, but the dragoness pushed herself back just far enough that the blade sliced through the cloth of her armor.

Shyvana lashed out with a massive right haymaker, but Delancey indulged herself in a grin as she mimicked Shyvana's move and slid just far enough backwards to dodge the move. Delancey spun her blade and caught the back of Shyvana's right gauntlet, jerking her forward. Sparks showered the snow as her blade skittered along the metal gauntlet as Delancey brought the blade up and around to strike at Shyvana's shoulder again. Shyvana brought her arm up to block it, catching the blade wide and sending Delancey backwards, trying to recover. Shyvana lashed out again, but her strike missed, sending her tumbling forward onto her face. She caught herself in her fall, using the new momentum to turn the fall into a downwards strike at Delancey's armored feet. The sergeant danced backwards, but as soon as Shyvana's gauntlet struck down she had dragged herself forward to strike in a similar motion. Shyvana launched herself forward, aiming for Delancey's center mass, but the sergeant laughed aloud as she leaped over Shyvana rolling her back across the dragoness's and landing behind her. Delancey bounced off her hands in a front flip, landing gracefully with another taunting grin.

Shyvana rolled and spun, ending up on all fours again, clawing at the ground as she slid to a stop, slapping another pair of throwing knives aside, loosed by the sergeant. Shyvana growled, her breathing heavy with exertion and anger now.

"Slippery little bitch." Shyvana muttered under her breath, shaking some of the ice and muddy grass from her gauntlets. "Hold still so I can maul you."

"What, and make it easy for you?" Delancey said, grinning as she made a show of admiring the blade of her falcata. Delancey paused and then scolded herself, shaking her head. "Damn it, I missed a good one. I should have remarked about how slippery you get when Jarvan is-Woohoo!" Delancey rolled away as a ball of flames boiled ice and snow where she had just been standing, pushing herself up to her feet and rolling away from Shyvana as the dragoness lunged, leading with a flame cloaked gauntlet. Shyvana landed on her knees, skidding in the snow a few feet, turning towards Delancey and preparing to lunge again. Delancey threw three daggers, but Shyvana barked a laughed when they all missed.

"You need to work on you aim!" Shyvana snarled, barring fangs as she launched herself towards where Delancey stood shrugging and grinning.

Shyvana felt something snag her armor and send her face planting into the snow with a surprised yelp.

"That was certainly a cute sound." Delancey chuckled as she admired her sword again. Shyvana growled as she looked over her shoulder at where a large dagger had pierced the pierced hercloak and sunk deep in the ground, pinning it in place. "Who needs to work on their aim?" Delancey smiled victoriously as Shyvana growled. Shyvana launched herself forward, the sound of ripping fabric echoing through the air. Delancey fell backwards as Shyvana went arcing over her, a ball of snarling flames and claws. The fabric shredded and the knifes when twirling away, Delancey impressed with Shyvana's shear power and tenacity. Shyvana landed and spun, though she did not immediately launch into an attack again. Delancey frowned, raising her sword in a defensive stance. Shyvana took two massive strides and launched herself forward, tucking her legs up to her chest and her arms to her sides, closing her eyes for a brief moment while she hung at the top of her arc.

"What are you..." Delancey's eyes grew wide and she raised her falcata up in one hand and produced her combat knife with the other. "This looks like it's going to hurt..."

Giant wings of flame burst from Shyvana's back, the plumes of flames driving her forward as if she had been fired by bow and arrow directly at Delancey. The sergeant yowled in surprise but kept her guard up as Shyvana came. They clashed in an explosion of fire as Delancey crossed her blades and caught Shyvana's gauntlet, twisting her blade about as Shyvana snarled and tried to force more flames from the massive wings. Delancey spread her feet and kept her stance, though with the ice under foot she skidded backward through the snow. She felt her stance falter as her rear boot struck a chunk of uprooted mud and ice. Delancey pushed up, catching Shyvana by surprise, dropping her blades to the ground. Shyvana pulled her weapon back for a brief moment as she looked at Delancey, the sergeant grinning and she rolled backwards, grabbing Shyvana's chest piece and hauling her up and over, planting a boot in her gut and tossing her way. Delancey grabbed her blades as they hit the ground, scooping them up as she rolled up to her feet.

Shyvana tumbled through the air, using the wilting wings of flame to spin her about so she could land heavily on all fours. The ground shook underneath her as she dragged herself to her feet. Shyvana looked down at her stomach where a muddy footprint had been planted on her stomach. She glared at Delancey for a moment, but the sergeant simply shrugged. "You really should stand still." Shyvana growled. "I just want to punch you, dear friend."

"And that's exactly why I'm not going to let you!" Delaney said, dodging a frustration driven charge from the Dragoness.

"I'm going to pummel you into the ground when I catch you!" Shyvana snarled in frustration, running after Delancey as the sergeant danced around back and forth, dodging sword strikes, parrying some and continuing to taunt the dragoness, drawing screams of frustration and anger.

...

"Sounds like they're having fun." Jarvan murmured, watching as Shyvana sprinted past on a sea of flames as Delancey skipped about, laughing hysterically. "Is this what it's normally like for you two?"

"Sometimes." Forsythe said, panting as he grinned as a roar of frustration echoing across the training grounds. "Usually involves less clothes and more dodging though. You should try it. Makes for great sex."

"God damn it, Forsythe." Jarvan said, shaking his head in frustration, hanging his head. "You really need to spend less time with Delancey. Or at least find something other to talk about than Shyvana and I's love life." Forsythe grinned as he raised a bolo over his head, swinging it about and throwing it at Jarvan as he charged. Jarvan gritted his teeth, hopping back and slashing the bolo from the air. "Shit!" The bolo had wrapped itself around his lance, the heavily weighted stones wrapped at the end of his lance, swinging it backwards towards the ground. Jarvan looked up just in time to raise an arm as Forsythe's shield collided with his side, causing the prince to heave as he felt several ribs crack. Forsythe crashed into him as he stumbled backwards, grabbing his shield before it fell away, and kicking backwards as Jarvan crashed to the ground.

"Don't tell me that's all you've got!" Forsythe shouted as he slowly circled the prince. "You've been pushing me about and simple mention of Shyvana throws you off your game. You're distracted, Jarvan."

"Fuck off." Jarvan muttered as he ripped his lance free of the bolo. He slammed his lance onto the ground, sending a standard arcing through the air towards Forsythe. He slapped the trigger of his lance aiming for the standard to close the gap with Forsythe, but he snarled when another bolo wrapped around the tip of his lance and the standard. Jarvan froze, trying to tug the lance free, but it was firmly wrapped around his lance, binding it to the standard.

"And you're predictable!" Forsythe shouted as he sprinted forward, jumping up onto the flat edge of Jarvan's lance as he ran along the blade. "You disappoint me!" Forsythe shoulder tackled Jarvan as the prince tried to rip the lance free again, sending him crashing to the ground. Forsythe rolled to his feet, producing a tomahawk and letting it fly, the metal headed weapon spinning rapidly as Jarvan side stepped it, the weapon coming dangerously close. He snarled as he watched the weapon arc past before he looked back to Forsythe. Forsythe had rapidly closed, sprinting forward and crashing into Jarvan with his shield first. Jarvan staggered backwards, the force of the blow causing his head to ring. Forsythe pushed forward, bringing his sword over and down in a rapid strike that Jarvan barely managed to swipe out of the air with his vambrace.

Forsythe spun, swiping at Jarvan with his shield again, the prince stumbling backwards as he missed the metal by bare inches. Forsythe snorted and raised his weapon up, letting it spin in his hand to hold it upside down by the grip, driving it down towards Jarvan's stomach.

"Jarvan!"

"What!?" Forsythe looked up at the last second as Shyvana cannonballed into him, sending him crashing along the ground. Masses of snow and ice were sent flying skyward as he was sent sprawling to the ground nearly a hundred feet away.

"Jarvan!" Shyvana shouted as she smacked a pair of knives from the air, as Delancey tried to turn the evasion off and attack. "Get your lance!" Jarvan blinked the last of the shock off and stumbled forward, grabbing his lance and starting to rip the ropes of the bolo up with a knife he had pulled from his boot.

"Don't ignore me!" Delancey shouted as Shyvana ducked backwards, dodging another strike from Delancey's sword and knife.

"You finally decided to fight?" Shyvana grinned as she planted her foot, stuck out her arm and swung, clothes lining the sergeant and sending her crashing to the ground. Delancey gasped in pain as her back struck the ground hard. She immediately rolled away though as Shyvana slammed a fist into the ground, sending a shower of ice and mud across the field. Shyvana withdrew, snarling as she rolled away, a tomahawk striking the dirt where she had just been standing.

"Now, Del!" Forsythe shouted as he charged forward, holding his sword over his head. Shyvana snarled, looking to where Delancey had produced a set of glittering knives, reaching her arm back and letting them fly. Shyvana hissed as she waved her arm, throwing up a cloak of flames that the blades crashed into and dropped to the ground the force of the rapidly rising heat the wall of steam. Shyvana turned to face Delancey, expecting the closer attack to come first, but Delancey grinned, making a cheeky face as Shyvana started to prepare an attack. She danced backwards, clear of any attack that Shyvana could put out. "Gotcha!" Forsythe bellowed as he let the bolo fly.

_It was a trap! _Shyvana felt the heavy stone bolo wrap around her legs and bind them, wrapping tight and start to topple the dragoness. Delancey charged now as Forsythe as well rushed forth, his sword held out to strike. Delancey raised her weapons to strike as Shyvana cursed her over-zealousness.

Power surged through Shyvana's veins as she let flames and energy pour through her body, channeling all of the strength she could. A whirlwind of flames and steam exploded around her as she roared aloud. Her head hung back as she howled in rage, sending out a massive wave of flame and heat that incinerated the ropes of the bolo. Forsythe was bowled over as he tried to brace against the shockwave, and Delancey was picked up out of the air and tossed backwards like a ragdoll.

"What power..." Forsythe said with a crooked grin as he grabbed Delancey's hand and hauled her to the ground next to him. He had anchored his sword firmly in the ground, his shield braced against his blade to prevent him from moving. He hauled her down and into the small bit of refuge offered by the shield. "This is starting to get out of hand."

"I think I can put an end to this." Delancey said, looking about for her sword and knife, but not being able to find either. "Damn." She spat, fishing her last two blades off of her belt. "I'm down to my last few throwing knives and I don't know how much longer I can last." She grumbled, her hand hovering over her side. She touched it and winced.

"I'll buy you as much time as I can." Forsythe said with a grin, producing a rock from nowhere. Delancey blinked a few times, but grinned and shook her head.

"You and your fucking rock." She muttered as she settled her hands around her last two knives. The finger guards were wickedly spiked and Forsythe raised an eyebrow.

"Says the woman who carried not one, but two knives like that." Forsythe chuckled. "Ready?"

"Bite me." Delancey snapped, but nodded. Forsythe blinked, though the cheeky grin he wore made it look like it was meant to be a wink.

"Later, babe. Go!" He exploded upwards and slapped Shyvana's attack aside with his shield and thrusted his sword forward, catching Shyvana by surprise. She snarled and punched across her body as she ducked the attack, striking Forsythe's blade hand with so much force the sickening crack of a breaking bone could be heard. Forsythe hissed but sunk back, grabbing his rock and hurling it at Shyvana as he ducked away. Shyvana caught it and shattered it with her hand, letting the dust and rubble fall away.

"Well that was anti-climactic..." Forsythe said softly as Shyvana reared her fist back and struck Forsythe in the chest, bowling him over.

"Behind you, Shy!" Jarvan said and he charged forward, leaping forward, his lance raised over his head. Shyvana looked back as Delancey charged her and rolled forward as the sergeant landed where Shyvana had just been standing.

"Fuck!" Delancey snarled as Jarvan arced through the air, his lance raised over his head for a massive blow.

"Del!" Forsythe knocked Delancey aside and raised his shield up, dropping to one knee and closing his eyes, holding the shield with both hands, gritting his teeth for Jarvan's attack.

The ground shook as shards of stone cut up through the stone, forming a massive arena that trapped Forsythe, Shyvana, Delancey and Jarvan within. Forsythe sank into the ground under the force of the blow, but he held for a brief moment before the sheer force of Jarvan's attack toppled his stance. Steam and ice fell from the sky as Jarvan picked himself up, looking down at the ground before him. He braced his foot against Forsythe's shield, ripping his lance from the shattered defensive implement.

Blood dripped from the end of his lance.

"Forsythe!" Delancey screamed, she started to run to him, but Shyvana slid between them, her fist raised. She struck through the air, the flaming blow, cutting through the air as Delancey ducked the blow and then leaped, grabbing Shyvana's torso and twisting about over her shoulder.

Delancey slid down Shyvana's back, her knife bouncing off of Shyvana's armor as she started to spin about. Delancey kicked off as Shyvana snarled, her hair flaring up as tendrils of flame leaped up off of the Dragoness's body. Delancey tried to slash at the Dragoness's back again, but the armored braid smacked it out of the way. She started to spin away, but she was buffeted up by a wave of heat and flames as Shyvana snapped about, lashing out with a foot. She kicked wildly, catching Delancey in the side and spinning the sergeant about.

Delancey crumpled onto the ground in a small heap, falling still. Shyvana blinked several times, banishing the golden slits of eyes as she waited for Delancey to get up off the ground.

"Oh crap..." Shyvana muttered, taking a step forward.

A sharp crack ripped her attention away from Delancey as she looked to where Jarvan was staggering backwards, a dazed look on his face.

"What!?" She started to look for Forsythe, but only the bloody remnants of the shield and a red stain upon the ground could be seen in the snow. She looked to Jarvan, but before she could open her mouth to ask what happened, Forsythe crashed into her, shoulder checking her and sending her crashing backwards into the wall of Jarvan's arena. Shyvana struck the wall, one of the horns of her helm striking the stone hard. Shyvana slumped down along the ground, her back against the stone. Forsythe stood up straight and looked at her with regret for a moment. His right arm hung at his side, blood dripping from a vicious gap in his bicep that had cut through steel, mail and muscle. Forsythe grunted as he shifted his arm and reached into his satchel and produced a circular round bottle with a bit of cloth and a bit of string hanging from the corked mouth and another short, fat round stick.

"What the hell?" Jarvan snarled shaking his head as he wave acrid gray smoke from his face, his eyes watering as blood dribbled from his right ear.

"Hey Jarvan!" Forsythe shouted, grabbing the string with his teeth and ripping it free. Sparks flew and tendrils of smoke rose from his hands as the cloth ignited. He touched the tip of the short stick to the flames and grinned as the prince looked to him in surprise. "Catch!" Forsythe tossed the crystalline bottle towards where Jarvan stood next to Shyvana, looking down at the stunned dragoness.

"Shit!" Jarvan grabbed Shyvana, hugged her to his chest and closed his eyes, summoning all of his strength. A glowing golden orb exploded around them both, the flames crashing down around the bubble. A sharp crack could be heard from outside the bubble, the faint rippling shimmer of the orb surrounding them bouncing and flexing as a shock wave buffeted the flames for a brief moment. Jarvan breathed a strained sigh of relief as Shyvana blinked her eyes open and looked up at Jarvan.

"What happened?" She mumbled, looking around at the swirling mass of gold and orange that surrounded them. A wispy blue orb drifted down and played over Shyvana's wound for a brief moment before it floated away, joining the other orbs, drifting around Jarvan like a protective web. She looked up at the flames with a moment of terror in her eyes. "Did I do this? Are Forsythe and Delancey okay!?" Her words were panicked and hurried but Jarvan calmed her with a raised hand and a grin.

"Easy, love, they're both fine." He looked up at the flames, blinking a few times and turning his head about, looking almost woozy. "This is Forsythe's doing. He hit us with a firebomb of his own making. I didn't know if it would hurt you so I…"

"Fire doesn't hurt me." Shyvana said crossly. "You, on the other hand, have a relatively poor track record when it comes to flames." She stroked his back gently and Jarvan, nodding his head. "You have the scars to show for it and everything."

"Yeah, yeah…" Jarvan murmured. "I didn't want to risk it, regardless." He turned and looked up at the wall of flames that had started to burn itself off. Shyvana noticed the trickle of blood that ran down from his ear.

"Jarvan, you're hurt…" She ran her hand through the streak and it was warm and sticky.

"What?" Jarvan turned to look at her, an eyebrow raised. "What did you say?"

"Your ear." Shyvana touched his ear gingerly.

"Oh, that." Jarvan said cringing a bit as he thought about it. "He set some sort of firecracker off in my face and I think it burst my eardrum. All I get out of the left side is ringing right now."

"Can you keep fighting?" Shyvana said, looking at him as he helped her up onto her feet. The bubble shimmered and shifted, fluctuating slightly as it expanded to let the two of them stand. Jarvan faltered slightly, gripping at his chest. "Jarvan?"

"I'm good to go." Jarvan said, nodding. "It's just been getting harder and harder to keep the Lightshield up for any amount of time, especially around the two of us."

"Then drop it, you big hearted moron." Shyvana muttered, looking at the prince, color in her cheeks. "I'm supposed to be protecting you, not vice versa."

"Let's call it a team effort." Jarvan said, stroking her cheek gently. "And I couldn't have asked for a better partner." Jarvan chuckled as Shyvana blushed again. "Especially one as cute as you."

"Shut up before I clock you." Shyvana muttered, glancing away. "Bodyguards aren't supposed to be cute."

"Yeah, yeah." Jarvan said as he dropped the shield. "Let's finish this and go get lunch. I've got a plan."

"Yes!" Shyvana said, nodding happily as she fell in beside him.

* * *

Forsythe looked to Delancey and lowered her to the ground. He let her get her feet under her before releasing her. "Can you stand?"

"Yeah." Delancey muttered, her hand hesitating over her side. "Hurts like hell, though."

"Agreed." Forsythe grunted. He looked to the arena where a golden bubble wreathed in flames sat burning. "It won't be much longer. We need to finish this soon. She's not going to wear out."

"I know." Delancey said, her chest heaving. She winced as she got to her feet, holding a hand to her side. "But what the hell can we do? I don't want to lose to those two."

"I've got an idea." Forsythe said, grunting as he pulled a small satchel from his belt and checking that it was still intact.

"You could kill them both with that..." Delancey said, her eyes wide.

"If this takes them down, then so be it." Forsythe said, grinning. "I lowered the payload, at most it should just knock them out."

"You're fucking mad!" Delancey spluttered. The grin that spread over Forsythe's face was wild.

"I fought a dragon close to the size of the damned barracks building over there with a half dragon, a prince, a ranger and a one legged lieutenant with a bow." He chuckled coldly as he pulled the rip cord on the small bag and tossed it to Delancey, her eyes going wide. "You didn't know that already? I thought that was half my charm." He shrugged and pulled his sword from the dirt and charged forward. "Better get moving, you don't have long!"

"You're fucking crazy!" Delancey called after him as she shook her head. She looked down at the satchel charge and grimaced at the hissing sound. She stared at it for a few moments before her stomach fell out of the bottom of her torso. "You already armed it!?"

"Like I said!" Forsythe shouted. "Get your ass moving!"

"Fuck you!" Delancey shouted as she sprinted forward, trying to catch up as he charged towards Shyvana and Jarvan.

The arena shattered to the ground as Forsythe charged in, dropping his shoulder as he swept in amid the shower of stone and rumble as it crashed around him. He swiped it aside, waving his sword wildly as he charged in. He battered Jarvan's lance aside, bouncing his sword around. He ducked and spun as Jarvan slashed his lance over his head, completing the spin as he launched himself upwards at Jarvan. "We've won!" Forsythe shouted victoriously as his blade came up to strike at Jarvan. A moment of horror showed on his face, but as Forsythe grinned victoriously, Jarvan's eyes glimmered in a vicious, victorious smile.

_What!?_

A moment of blinding pain came from his temple, stars exploding in his vision as he struck the ground and rolled, bouncing across the hard ground as he came to a grinning stop.

Forsythe groped for his sword for several moments, his hand finally finding the comfort of the hilt. His fingers clasped around the leather wrappings, and he started to drag it closer, upwards.

_If I can just get to my feet..._

The word slowly started to fade from black, a distant, painfully dark shadowy looming closer. An armored boot stomped down of his blade, ripping it from his grasp.

"You're through." Shyvana rumbled with a dark frown. "I've had enough of your games." She rolled Forsythe onto his back with her foot. Delancey was draped over her shoulder, clearly knocked out. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were shut, a thin trickle of blood dripping from her lip. Shyvana noticed his gaze. "She's fine. She might be a bit sore, but she'll live."

"Damn." Forsythe said, letting his head drop back to the ground as he slumped onto his back. He chuckled softly, looking skyward. "How did you deal with the satchel charge?"

"Satchel charge?" Shyvana and Jarvan said at the exact same time, looking at each other.

"Down!" Jarvan closed his eyes and kneeled, grabbing Shyvana and hauling her down as a massive golden bubble erupted around them all. Jarvan clutched at his chest as a massive ball of fire engulfed the area, shrouding them all.

...

The smoke and steam passed quickly.

The bubble dropped away and Shyvana and Delancey dropped away rolling onto their backs and looking skyward.

Jarvan clutched at his chest, sucking in deep, greedy breaths as looked back to ensure all of his friends were alive. Shyvana offered him a grin, Forsythe nodded weakly and Delancey's chest rose and fell peacefully.

"You're fucking mad, Forsythe." Shyvana grunted as her chest heaved.

"Fuck off, you probably broke four of my damn ribs with that last attack." The corporal grunted in frustration for a moment, but then he chuckled softly, his laughter growing louder. "The fuck are we doing?"

"Well, I believe I just kicked your ass, Forsythe." Shyvana said, smiling.

"Shut up, both of you." Jarvan murmured. "You're making my head hurt."

"I'll give you something to take your mind off the pain." Shyvana said in a voice that was somewhere between a invitation to something deviant and a threat for physical harm.

"I swear to god, if you two start making out..." Forsythe muttered softly.

"I was going to punch him." Shyvana growled. "But thanks for the idea." She rolled over and laid over Jarvan, draping her hands around his neck and kissing him deeply.

"Oh, for fucks sake..." Forsythe rolled his eyes. After several long moments, Jarvan's heavy panting could be heard again as Shyvana rolled back, flopping out atop the snow. Her skin had faded to its normal, pale hue and her hair, a lustrous red, was splayed out around her like a pool of liquid rubies.

"It's cold out here..." She murmured aloud.

"We should probably head back." Jarvan said, grunting. "I hurt like hell and this has been plenty of training for today. How're your wounds, Forse?"

"They sting and hurt like hell, but I'll live." He grimaced as he tried to roll over and get to his feet. "Fuck that hurts... Remind me not to fight you again. You two play dirty."

"You tried to blow me up!" Jarvan snapped back in astonishment.

"So I underestimated the blast radius a little bit." Forsythe shrugged, wincing again. "My bad."

"Well, I thought it was a good way to end things with a bang." Shyvana said, grinning. Delancey groaned as she shivered on the ground.

"Looks like she's coming to." Forsythe grunted, he tossed a bit of snow at the sergeant's face. "Get up, lazy." She grunted again and rolled over, swiping a hand through the air as if she was a small child wanting to go back to sleep. "I think she's got the right idea right about now." Forsythe muttered, shaking his head. "It's too damn early to be this tired."

"Aw, and I was having so much fun." Shyvana pouted. She met the incredulous stares from Forsythe and Jarvan with a grin. "Though if any of you wanted, I could easily keep going..." Jarvan looked over his shoulder at her in disbelief, the dragoness offering him a cheeky grin. The prince shook his head, breaking into a lopsided grin.

Forsythe looked to the prince with pity in his eyes. "How you plan to keep up with that, I don't know." He nodded his head in reverence. Forsythe snorted, a grin spreading over his face. "Shit, Shy, if you keep this up, I don't think Xin is going to have a chance." Forsythe grumbled as he pulled himself to his feet with a hearty grunt and a long exhalation. He glared at the prince for a few moments and then shook his head. "What have you been feeding her? I've never seen this much improvement this quickly."

"A steady diet of beatings, instruction and as much food as she can eat." Jarvan said chuckling.

"And that's not all!" Delancey announced, surprisingly sprightly as she started to get up. She whimpered in surprise as she rolled over and coughed deeply.

"I thought you were knocked out..." Forsythe grunted in disbelief, pushing himself up from his knees.

"I felt the need to tease Shyvana." Delancey tried to laugh, but there was a moment pain on her face as she grunted and dropped down towards the ground. "Plus you hit like a girl, Shy."

"Remind me not to hold back next time." Shyvana grunted as she rolled to her feet.

"I'll make sure that you get something hard as well." Delancey chuckled, grinning. "Hey Jarvan, I think Shyvana needs some attention." Jarvan glared at Delancey. He opened his mouth to say something in his defense, but the sergeant's youthful energy seemed unending, despite the pain on her face. She grinned happily as Jarvan hung his head and sighed, Shyvana ducked her head as she blushed.

"Give them a break, Del, they did just beat the tar out of us." Forsythe said with a grin. She sighed and shrugged, still grinning mischievously as she started to pick up some of her knives. She balanced a knife on the fingertip of her leather glove, grinning as she spun about, keeping it perfectly vertical.

"Del, if you could fight half as well as you could make jokes, you wouldn't be out of the job." Shyvana said, sticking her nose out and putting on a confident smile. Delancey jerked to an awkward halt, her mouth hanging open as she looked to the dragoness. Shyvana blushed slightly as she looked from Jarvan to Forsythe and back to Delancey. She tucked her hands behind her back and looked to the ground. "Did I say something wrong?"

Jarvan ran a hand up his face and through his sweat soaked hair, a smile breaking out over his face. "Delancey, I do believe you have just be owned." He looked to Shyvana and grinned massively. "It was just a bit unexpected, coming from you, love."

"Yeah, I do believe that Shyvana won that one." Forsythe said, chuckling softly as he looked to the flabbergasted sergeant. He bent over and fished the partially melted remains of his shield and looked at it with disappointment. "Damnit , and I really liked this shield, too." He shook his head and shrugged as he slid it up onto his arm. "It's good to see that you've started to open up a bit more, Shyvana. I remember not even a few months ago you would hardly talk to anyone but the prince."

Shyvana blushed again, but nodded, smiling. "I was surprised how well I was accepted here." Shyvana said as she picked up her gauntlets. "Most humans I've met fear or despise me... it's been nice, even with as much hate as I still get." Forsythe's face hardened for a few moments but he quickly shook it off when Jarvan gave him an angry glare that Shyvana didn't catch. Forsythe hid the pity on his face as he coughed into his hand and looked away. "You okay, Forsythe?" Shyvana asked as he wiped his mouth.

"Yeah." Forsythe muttered, shrugging as he picked up his sword and sheathed it. "The chill is just getting to me, and I think I need a doctor. We should probably head back. Ready, Del?"

"I know someone we can get to treat our wounds without too many questions." Jarvan said as he shouldered his lance, holding ahand over his side.

"But, but, but..." Delancey spluttered, shaking the surprise off as she picked up the knife. "What about..."

"Just admit you lost and let's go." Forsythe said, grabbing a knife of hers as he handed it back to her. "Let's just get back inside and ice these bruises down."

"But what about..." Delancey stammered.

"Come on, you too, Del." Forsythe said, putting an arm around her waist and pushing her along. The sergeant blushed as she looked down at his arm, but didn't push it away. "You should probably get those bruises taken care of before it starts to swell too much. It wouldn't be presentable for the ball at the end of the week."

"But I wasn't invited the ball..." Delancey said, wincing as she gently touched her side, looking down her tunic and grimacing. A nasty looking purple bruise was starting to form where Shyvana had kicked her.

"You're still my bodyguard for now." Jarvan said with a chuckle. "Which means you're going to be serving as part of my honor guard."

"What!?" Delancey said, deadpan, shock on her face.

"You're not the only one with surprises." Jarvan said with a grin as they laughed at her silly expression. Delancey looked sheepish, but the sound was infectious. They all laughed aloud, the sweet sound of Forsythe, Delancey and Shyvana all laughing with him. It felt good to laugh so heartily, so heartily that Jarvan coughed into his hand, smiling as he looked back at his friends, and the smile of his dragoness.

Shyvana looked at him and they locked eyes for a brief moment. Her brilliant magenta eyes glimmered happily as she beamed at him. She slid her hand into his and gave it a squeeze.

_How beautiful those eyes are. I'll give anything to keep that smile upon her face._

"Oi, I may be nothing but a lowly clerk, but you lovebirds better carry your own damn weapons back." Forsythe growled, posting his fists upon his hips. "This crap isn't going to carry itself."

"I got it." Shyvana said grinning as she stood up on her tip toes and kissed Jarvan on the nose before bounding away to pick up some of the destroyed metal weapons they had all torn through. Jarvan coughed into his hand again, his hand coming away damp. Jarvan looked down at his palm.

_Blood?_


	40. Chapter 39: Escalation

Jarvan stood in the outer hallway of General Lorcan's suite of offices, moving slowly along the carpeted hall, his eyes settling on one painting for a few moments before moving to the next as he passed. A door opened at the far end of the hallways and a young officer stepped out. He strode up to the prince, clicked his heels together as he fell into attention and then saluted smartly, holding the salute. Jarvan turned and responded with a salute of his own before dropping it and clasping his hands as the small of his back.

"Yes?" Jarvan said officiously.

"General Lorcan will see you now, sir." The officer announced stiffly.

"Of course, thank you." Jarvan said, nodding. He raised an eyebrow and watched as the officer gestured for him to proceed. _I was summoned here by the general, yet his assistant makes it sound like I requested this meeting._ Jarvan frowned slightly, shaking it off and then nodding his head as he gestured for Delancey to follow from where she stood at the opposite end of the hallway, standing guard along the main entranceway. She moved quickly forward, falling in slightly behind the prince as they moved towards the office doors. Jarvan's gait slowed for a brief moment as his eyes lingered on the decorative sword that hung on the wall, a sliver of its blue-hued folded-steel blade glimmering in the soft light.

_I need to check and see if that is the same make of weapon as the one that killed Deadeye… _Jarvan grimaced. _I need to see them side by side though, I can't be sure._

"If you would, sir." The officer gestured for the prince to step into the office. Jarvan nodded tersely, moving in and approaching the general's desk. The short general sat behind the massive wooden desk, reading a piece of paper, holding it in front of his face as his eyes danced over the lines. His spectacles shimmered ominously in the light as he twirled the tips of his mustache, a frown on his tightly pursed lips.

Jarvan approached the desk and saluted smartly. "Lieutenant Colonel Lightshield, reporting as ordered, sir."

Lorcan glanced up and saluted casually, a thin smile forming at the respect Jarvan showed, dropping it as he went back to his paper. "Have a seat, my boy. I'll be with you in a second." He looked to the officer and then back to his paper as he adjusted his glasses. "Kelvney, perhaps you could fetch some refreshments for the prince and his friend?"

"Of course, sir." The guard spun and disappeared out of the main door, shutting it behind him. Several moments passed in deathly silence before Lorcan looked over the page at the prince.

"How goes your training, your highness?" Lorcan said, finally putting down his papers and looking up from behind his desk. He gestured to the chairs that sat before the table. The prince nodded his thanks and dropped into the seat, sighing heavily, watching as Lorcan's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "I see you've managed to pick up a few new bruises since the last time we talked. I hope you've had them treated?"

"Of course, general." Jarvan chuckled, shaking his head as he ran a hand along his jaw. "We had Elvarran set a couple of broken bones, and she healed a few cracked ribs as well."

The general turned slightly, looking to the prince, his glasses shimmering. "Elvarran? Your now ex-fiance, the doctor?" He adjusted his glasses slightly. "You should be very careful with how you tread, Prince..."

Jarvan frowned slightly, his mouth working for a second before his shook his head. "I have no desire to betray Shyvana in such a manner, general. I'm insulted you would think me capable of something like that."

The general chuckled softly and shook his head. "I meant no harm with my words, boy, just the teasing of an old man" A smile had blossomed beneath his mustache as he tugged on one end. "You may wish to ensure you did not insight unwanted emotions though, the heart of the fairer sex is easily swayed."

"I am well aware." Jarvan said softly, letting his head hang slightly. "Shyvana, while she was robbed of experiencing any semblance of a normal childhood, is still very much innocent at heart despite the fearsome appearance and her distant outward manner. She is angry with the treatment shown to her by the world and those in it, and she has hardened her appearance to match, but beneath that facade is a scared young woman." Jarvan voice trailed off slightly. "Perhaps my sense of pragmatism got ahead of my considerations of her feelings. I shall have to make it up to her." Jarvan glowered at the ground for a moment before he sighed softly and shook his head. He looked back up at the general, getting a slow and approving nod from the general. "Aside from the light wounds, training goes well, sir. Shyvana has made a lot of progress very quickly." Jarvan paused, looking around the room for a moment before looking back to the general. "She learns extremely quickly, and her prowess and adaptability shows she is far smarter and more creative than anyone gives her credit for at first glance. I'm confident that she'll succeed versus the Seneschal."

"Oh?" Lorcan raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Such confidence in your confidant. It is good to see her fighting prowess is increasing, but you should also see to it that her mental prowess in exercised just as much. If her emotional health and fortitude is as—I regret to use the term—as under-developed as you indicate, you may wish to take some time to address any issues that may arise. The Demacian court is no easy lifestyle to get used to, and while she had adapted well so far I do think it would behoove you both to establish a baseline of sorts. It will serve to strengthen your trust in each other and I do think that may prove to be a greater tool to both you and her in the long run." He chuckled quietly to himself as he turned his chair and stood up, moving towards the window. Beyond the glass panes, much of the palace was sprawled out below and beyond the palace's main palisades lay the barracks. "I only advise you ensure she gets plenty of rest after the ball, the Seneschal is no push over. Be careful how much of the night you two spend under the influence of softer subjects and finer drink."

Jarvan fought not to roll his eyes. "I'll take it under advisement, sir. I still wish to let Shyvana enjoy herself."

"Of course, of course." Lorcan said, clapping his hands cheerily. "Now that I have finished my sagely words of wisdom regarding love, where is the young'n this morning? It's strange to see you two away from each other when the king or I haven't dragged you apart."

"Her commanding officer summoned her back to the training company for the morning." Jarvan said shrugging. "It's not something that can be avoided unfortunately."

"Unfortunate, yes." Lorcan said, nodding his head thoughtfully. "I still have yet to meet this amazing young woman." He shrugged, again a thin and almost menacing smile playing over his lips. He raised his hands up and then pressed them against the desktop as if to halt the conversation. "But alas, that is not why I called you here today, young man."

"Of course, sir." Jarvan said, nodding his head as he sat up slightly in the cushy chair. "If I may ask, general, what exactly _did_ you call me here for?"

"Straight to the point as always." General Lorcan said nodding. He sat back down, perching himself upon the edge of his chair in a fashion that could only be described as graceful. "What do you know the current situation regarding the recent assassination attempt that you faced?"

"When I was shot within my room?" Jarvan said, sitting back and furrowing his brow. General Lorcan nodded. "Well, most of the night is blurry, but I _do_ remember getting shot when I jumped in front of Shyvana to protect her." Jarvan blushed slightly at that admission, he knew that it would have been smarter to knock Shyvana out of the way, and he had acknowledged his own fault there. "I vaguely remember several intruders, one of which I've come to suspect was Lee, but I've never actually been able to confirm that through either Lee himself or General Jormander. I also know there was at least two others involved besides Vorscham, Delancey and Alicia. The sharpshooter, who I later came into contact with, and another infiltrator who was shot and killed by Deadeye. He was struck by a bolt that exploded and incinerated him and all of his possessions instantly." Jarvan paused and then shrugged. "Next thing I remember is waking up in the Hospital with Shyvana. Then I had my little run in with General Jormander, and I haven't had much chance else to deal with it."

"I see." Lorcan mused. He sighed heavily, turning his chair to give Jarvan his profile as he looked towards the window behind his desk. "While you have been training your dragoness, my staff and I have been doing some investigating of our own into this mysterious character that was residing in Demacia under the guise of 'Sergeant Wallace Lee'. Between myself and my most trusted men, we've torn apart Jormander's records and his office looking for information pertaining to his origins and identity, but whoever he is, he is exceedingly sharp. We've found several instances of doctored records where the changes look clean, but the information didn't quite line up, most likely due to a rushed but professional job. If nothing else, Jormander was exceedingly meticulous in his record keeping."

"I think I've come across a number of similar records and errors." Jarvan said, nodding his head slowly. "Though I have yet to really make sense of them…"

"You speak of your web of incidents?" Lorcan said, offering the prince a thin grin.

"Yes sir." Jarvan nodded. "There is a trail of occurrences and oddities that are leading somewhere, but I don't know where... and that's what worries me."

Lorcan sighed softly again. "I looked upon your map, and I have several theories about what may have happened." He paused, glancing down at his desk. "I will state this directly, your highness, this discussion is not to leave this room. The implications that it may carry, and those who may be involved will strike out violently and brutally to defend themselves if they know of what we speak."

"Of course, sir." Jarvan said, his brow furrowing again.

"I need you to tell me you understand." Lorcan said fiercely, his voice cold and angry, devoid of the welcoming joviality it had carried before. "This is not something for your bedroom, for your father, for even your subordinates." He sighed softly and turned to Delancey. Her face had paled and her normally colorful hair seemed to have wilted in its body and color. "If you so much as utter a word of this outside this room, I will have to drug into the street, branded a traitor and shot dead before you speak a second word."

"I understand sir." Jarvan growled basely. Delancey managed a bare, quivering nod of the head.

Lorcan collapsed back into his chair, sighing heavily and running a hand over his face, under his glasses and over his eyes. He massaged his eyelids as he sunk a bit in his chair. The age showed in his face more so that Jarvan had ever seen before. "After looking at your heat map and time line, I made a series of connections with some of my own personal records. I keep tabs on every Noxian officer that I can who looks to display any sort of prowess as they come up the ranks. Swain was an officer I marked early on in his career due to two things: first was his ruthless determination and prowess. Never have I seen a military officer so driven and underhanded, even among his fellow countrymen. Noxians and Demacians fell around him like flies; anyone in his way ended up dead. The second was his abrupt appearance into the Noxian chain of command."

"There aren't any records of him before his supposed promotion to Colonel." Jarvan concurred, grimacing. "Save one that appears to be field hospital records of when he got his leg splinted improperly. The only reason it seems to exist is the surgeon's noticing the man's utter detachment from the pain of his injury. It seemed to fit the bill of Swain in my mind."

"I agree with your conclusions, and my research matches what you've said." Lorcan said, steepling his fingers in front of his face. "The lack of records is what worries me. Often times, upstarts and officers who prove their competence in the Noxian Command Structure are scouted early and either crushed or recruited into one of the many camps of the Noxian command structure. If an officer isn't recruited by another, higher-ranking officer and doesn't turn up dead in the gutter, they don't last long. Swain is the only officer who owes no allegiance to another officer of a higher status."

"Who does he ally himself with, then?" Jarvan said, frowning and thinking back.

"I was hoping you might have some insight into this." Lorcan said, his glasses glimmering menacingly as he looked at the prince. "I was wondering if you would enlighten me about your time spent in Noxus? I found it slightly disturbing you didn't include much information about your time outside of captivity within the city, especially your liaising with the new master of the Du Couteau household."

Delancey sat up and blinked several times, looking over to Jarvan in shock.

"You know about that, eh?" Jarvan said, sinking slightly in his seat, running a hand over his jaw. Lorcan nodded and gestured for him to explain, a cold glimmer in his eye.

"Perhaps you'd like to say some words in your defense?" Lorcan mused. "I won't subject you to the humiliation that Jormander attempted to incur, but I would like an explanation."

"Yes, sir." Jarvan said, pushing himself up. "There are some… complications first, that I must explain."

"Complications?" The good general raised an eyebrow. "What sort of complications?"

"First of all, I would like to state that I _still_ don't fully understand all of what I'm about to tell you. This was something that more or less fell into my lap, be that by chance or by someone's hand." Jarvan took a deep breath and set his jaw. "While traveling through Great Barrier, the remainder of my men and I made a brief stopover in Kalamanda. Shyvana had joined my… _company_ at this point and Valin Isaacs was still alive. While staying at an Inn there, I met a young ranger who I hired to track and guide us to the location of the dragon who had killed Shyvana's father, Faust. While conversing with her, I managed to overhear a conversation between Katarina du Couteau and her retainer and adopted brother, an assassin by the name of Talon. This was my first run in with them."

"First?" Lorcan mused, tugging at the edge of his beard thoughtfully. He raised a hand to excuse himself. "Please, continue."

"While we listened, it became apparent that they were following my company, hoping to glean information as to the location of her father, the now missing General Marcus Du Couteau. We departed the following morning, making north-north-east towards the Iron Spike Mountains, chasing after the dragon's trail. During this period of travel, heavy rains set in and I got separated from the rest of my company. I was knocked from my horse by a low lying branch, and when I came to, I was in the company of Katarina and her brother."

"And you made an alliance with them in exchange for supplies, directions and the like?" Lorcan suggested.

"No, actually." Jarvan said, frowning as he looked at his lap. "I refused their taunts and attacked, hoping to drive them away, however they seemed to relish the fight and decided it within their interests to try and beat the information I did not poses out of me. I fought them as best I could, but they eventually began to overcome me. It was at this point that Shyvana arrived and sent them packing, unfortunately it was too late."

"You knew something about General Du Couteau?" Lorcan said, sitting up abruptly.

"Not exactly." Jarvan said, looking at his hands. "I was careless and frustrated in my fighting and the wounds were …severe. To this day, I still think I died in that forest, cradled in Shyvana's arms. I remember a bright white light and then nothing." Jarvan's voice trailed off.

"Are you a zombie?" Delancey poked the prince in the arm, unsure of what to expect.

"Has anything I've ever said or done give you any sort of hint that I was a zombie." Jarvan said, rolling his eyes. "And there was no necromancy, either." He shook his head and sighed softly. "I remember some of the dreams I experienced, but what happened to me in the real world, I don't exactly know, I never found out." He shrugged. "While I was… _out _I was told many things that I didn't understand. Supposedly, the dragon, Kampf, was trying to start a war between Noxus and Demacia. I didn't know why at the time, but later I learned he was being directed by another. I didn't know who the voice belonged to, so I shunted it away at the time, but the voice then directed me through a pair of massive doors. Something about facing my fears…"

Jarvan shivered.

"When I woke up, I had been buried in a pine box. Luckily someone was able to dig me out when they heard my screams. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a platoon of Noxian soldiers. I killed a few with a shovel before they managed to subdue me."

"A shovel?" Lorcan scoffed, shaking his head. He sighed softly, a conflicted expression on his face. "Impressive, and while your story is fantastical, I have heard wilder stories that I know to be true. I assume at this point, the story resumes as per your report? You were captured to be executed, correct?" The prince nodded. "I see, well… aside from your otherworldly experienced, I am curious about who this manipulator who managed to control a dragon was." A toothy grin emerged from beneath his mustache. "Well, aside from you of course."

"I do not know who it is even now, but I shall explain what I do know in time." Jarvan said, nodding his head to the general. "We escaped from the Noxian Arena by way of Shyvana carrying me on her back. We wound up crashing into some gardens deep inside the city, and in the rough landing Shyvana was knocked out. When I managed to recover, Katarina was once again standing over me. She again explained that she wanted information, in exchange for sheltering us from the Noxian guardsmen. With Shyvana unconscious, my armor in ruins and nowhere else to go, I had to accept her help or die."

Lorcan ran his hand over his face, and sighed. "Anyone else and I'd have to have you tried and executed on treason." He grimaced after a few moments and then waved his hand, a bit of frustration on his face. He sighed. "Continue."

"Katarina spoke of how things are changing in Noxus. She fears something is happening in the Noxian High Command that threatens the very livelihood of her nation. She spoke of plots and rumors of a coup d'etat passing through the troops. She explained that my interaction with the dragon, Kampf, was disturbing this plot though, and she spoke of how Swain was tied into the very depths of it. He controls much of the Noxian Military, mostly indirectly, but he has earned many, many favors and had left a surprising portion of the army in his debt. Darius, another prominent general of Noxus, sided with Swain as well, though why Darius joined she did not say. I learned later that Swain and Darius are stockpiling arms and armor, as well as increasing their training regimen. I didn't believe it at the time, but…"

"Swain is aiming to usurp control of Noxus?" Lorcan said, his eyes growing wide.

"Katarina certainly believed so." Jarvan nodded. "His main obstacle is General Boram Darkwill, and the general's successor, his son. As it turns out, Katarina had been following some of Swains men in Kalamanda when she stumbled across me." Jarvan shrugged. "While Noxus is a member of the Institute of War, she did not believe it would matter when Swain made his move. The position he holds in the Institute already may mean he's begun to spread his corruption there."

"So you plan to join the League of Legends then…" Lorcan said, sitting back slightly as he sized the prince up. "You want to try and best slow Swain's ascent where you can, yes?"

"I don't think Swain will be able to make a successful move any time soon, as long as Darkwill is in power, that is." Jarvan growled, frowning. "With all eyes on Kalamanda, and subsequently Demacia and Noxus' part in the negotiations, I hope that Swain will refrain from doing anything brash. He wouldn't have spent this long working for his goal to lose it all with a failed coup attempt." General Lorcan nodded slowly.

"You're much more knowledgeable about politics than many give you credit, your highness." Lorcan said evenly. "Did Miss du Couteau state anything more about her father? I'm curious if there is something more there, and I fear that there may be a larger player at work behind the scenes. Swain may be a tactical genius, but I doubt he's able to bend a dragon to his will so easily."

"I don't think so, but her concerns over the safety of her father seemed to be tied to her concerns about the war." Jarvan said, leaning forward and grimacing. "I don't know whether Katarina's motives are entirely personal or what, but from what little time I've spent with her, she seems genuinely concerned with both the longevity of her nation and the safety of her father. I do not think she wishes to see Noxus go to war with Demacia, despite her ties to the High Command and her involvement in this plot."

Lorcan nodded his head slowly, tapping a finger against his chin. "It seems Swain wishes to start a war…" Lorcan said thoughtfully. "That explains some things, but not everything. Why a war? What does Swain stand to gain by restarting another war?" Lorcan glowered for a moment. "Noxus is weak right now. She lacks for resources and morale. Her people are struggling to get buy and if a conflict did break out, the Institute would likely step in and Darkwill would ensure the peace as he did before. If that happens, Swain gets nothing." Lorcan sighed. "Just what the hell are you thinking, Swain?"

Jarvan let the general think in quiet for several minutes, but when it looked as though there was nothing further he was needed for, he cleared his throat. Lorcan started briefly before crossing his hands in front of himself to calm his nerves. "General Lorcan, I have a question to ask of you." Jarvan said, sitting up slightly. The general looked surprised, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Of course, please, speak." Lorcan said, hiding his surprise as best he could.

"That sword that hangs upon your wall in the hall, it was crafted by the man you called 'Constantin Steelsword', correct?" Jarvan asked evenly. The general nodded his head slowly. "That was not his original name, was it?"

Lorcan fitted the prince with a dark frown, but when Jarvan did not falter from his stance, the general sighed, deflating slightly. "Your wit is painfully sharp, my prince. No, Constantin was not originally of the surname 'Steelsword'. His real name has long been erased, and for my own peace of mind, I ask you not push any deeper into the subject." Jarvan set his jaw.

"He was originally from Noxus, wasn't he?" Jarvan said, frowning.

The general faltered, his mouth hanging open for several brief moments before he snapped it shut. "So you knew?" The general shook his head. "I suppose it is my place to ask that you not disclose this information. I have long served Demacia to the fullest of my ability, striving to be a paragon for the people to follow, but there is only one bond stronger than that of my ties to Demacia."

"Blood." Jarvan said softly.

Lorcan nodded and sighed. "He is my son-in-law. I don't know where they met or how they came to love each other, but my daughter sought my help many years ago when she and Constantin desired to move forward with their lives together. I resisted at first, but I had the power to make it happen as I was then in command of the Demacian Security Forces. I performed the operation under the guise of securing an informant, secreting the man away in the night and bringing him to Demacia, where I destroyed all record of him. I would ask you please explain how it is you know of him and his background?"

"Shyvana and I spent an evening under the care of Katarina's staff and Talon's watchful eye." Jarvan said, a wistful look in his eyes as he gazed off towards the window. He dropped his gaze for a brief moment before looking back to the general. "It was an all too brief respite, but it was interrupted by assassins."

"More assassins?" Delancey said raising an eye.

"Yes." Jarvan said, nodding. "I dispatched them easily, killing one and knocking the other out. Their armor was new and clean, much cleaner than either one of the men who wore it, and with them they carried a peculiar pair of weapons. The steel they carried was extremely high quality, much finer than anything available to all but the Highest Noxian generals. It bore Demacian insignia, and there was a distinct pattern in the blade. At the time I knew I had seen it before, it carried the similar shimmer of other Demacian craftsmen, but at the time I couldn't place it exactly. And then I visited your office for the first time."

"The sword upon the wall." Lorcan said, closing his eyes and nodding. "Constantin presented it to me as a wedding present, along with the painting…"

"Of the two ships, yes, I recognized it." Jarvan said, softly, looking to his lap. "I saw another just like it hanging in the parlor of the Du Couteau mansion."

Lorcan's face formed an impenetrable mask of a frown. Jarvan waited in silence for several moments, but Lorcan appeared lost in thought. "With your permission, I'd like to inquire with him-…"

"No." Lorcan said firmly. "This is my issue to deal with." The general shook his head.

"Yes, sir." Jarvan said, eyeing the general with a frown. "When we tried to interrogate the man, we initially didn't get anywhere." Jarvan had regained the general's attention. "After some convincing from both Shyvana and Katarina, The man finally told us who was behind it all."

"Who was it?" Lorcan asked hurriedly, his eyes growing wide. He sat back and tried to compose himself slightly.

"He only managed to get a single syllable out before he was killed." Jarvan growled. "There was a constriction charm cast upon his neck that strangled him before we could get anything important from him. He only gave us a single letter… 'L'."

Lorcan's face went a ghostly pale white.

"'L'?" Lorcan repeated. "Are you sure he said the letter 'L'? I need to know that without a doubt the letter you speak of was 'L'."

Jarvan frowned but nodded his head. "I remember watching him die like it was yesterday. I'm sure."

Lorcan got to his feet and then moved towards the door. "I need to check several things." He shook his head, as if he were going over something in his mind. "I want you to speak of this to no one, you hear me? I shall contact you when I get this figured out. For now, lay low and do not do anything foolish. If this is what I think it is, not only is your life in danger, but the entirety of Runeterra may be at risk."

"General…" Jarvan said, getting to his feet as the general pulled on his overcoat and wrapped a cloak over his shoulders.

"If there is more, I no longer have the time." Lorcan said, shaking his head as he looked down at his quivering hands. He clasped his fists and hid them in his pockets. "If my suspicions are realized…" he paused for a brief moment before shaking his head again. "I fear that Runeterra may be in grave danger." He ripped the door open, surprising his assistant whose hand stood poised over the doorknob, a maid behind him with a tray of tea and biscuits. "Stay and enjoy the refreshments if you like, but I must go. Stay safe, your highness." With that, the general swept out of the room with a swirl of his cloak, his cane _clacking_ upon the marble floors with every step he took. It quickly faded from earshot.

Jarvan looked to Delancey and back to the hallway and then sighed, glowering and shaking his head. "What the fuck is going on…" Jarvan growled.

"I don't know." Delancey said quietly. "I don't want to know. I'm just going to sit here and pretend I didn't hear anything, and just go back to doing my job."

"Del…" Jarvan started to say, but he was stopped when she raised a hand.

"Sir, with all due respect, do us both a favor and shut the hell up." Delancey shook her head violently. "I really, really like my job and I like having my head properly attacked to my body even more. I don't care about what happened before you returned to Demacia, I've served with you enough to know I can trust you." She paused for a moment and then shook her head. "At least I hope I can. After all this nonsense with Lee and this stuff… I think that if you're not you, then whatever." He tossed her arms up and shrugged. "Fuck it. This shit is way above my pay grade."

"Thanks, Del." Jarvan said softly, shaking his head as he sunk down into the chair. "I wish things weren't this complicated.

"You're telling me." Del muttered, shaking her head.

"Let's go." Jarvan said, turning and making for the door. Delancey watched him, her brow creased slightly, but she followed behind him. Jarvan turned left out of the office, picking his pace up as he started moving along the hallway.

"Your office is this way, sir." Delancey said, glancing beyond Jarvan.

"I'm aware of that." Jarvan said, pausing and looking back at Delancey. "I'm not going back to the office yet. I'm going to visit your boyfriend. I need a favor."

"Forsythe?" Delancey repeated, surprised. She blushed slightly. "But he's not my... wait, what do you need a favor from him for? He only work in the personnel and records offi-..." Her voice trailed off as Jarvan nodded.

"Exactly." Jarvan said, starting down the hall again.

"Sir, this is an invitation for trouble, we were warned to stay out of this." She muttered, shaking her head. "The general warned you not to do anything stupid..."

"I'm not doing anything yet." Jarvan said, shrugging. _I was told to trust no one. Forsythe is one of the few people I know I can trust._ "I'm just gathering information for now."

"Sir..." Delaney murmured, unease in her voice.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to, Delancey." Jarvan looked back at her, meeting her gaze with a serious frown. "I won't force you to do anything you're not comfortable with."

Delancey sighed, and let her shoulders sag as she ran a hand over her face. "Let's just hurry." Delancey muttered, shaking her head. "Either way, I'm screwed. Violating orders or dereliction of my duty to guard you."


	41. Chapter 40: Execution

The training grounds within the courtyard of the Palace Barracks buzzed with activity as the amassed strength of Victoria company stood about waiting while the officers and some of the noncoms stood in the center of the training arena speaking among themselves. In the center of the group Major Seymour stood explaining things while his lieutenants stood about with impatient frowns upon their faces. They clearly thought they had better places to be and much better things to be doing than listening to Seymour's chickenshit excuse for leadership.

Off to the side of the arena, Shyvana stood watching and listening to the other soldiers. Many were looking forward to the weekend of leave they had been granted due to the King's Ball and the decree the made weeks before. Shyvana had been worried about the ball and her duel with Xin Zhao more than anything else, despite the confidence Jarvan and Forsythe had done their best to instill in her the day before. Even with Lady Catherine's help, walking in a dress still proved difficult for the dragoness. Dancing was another thing that Shyvana had been completely foreign to before her arrival in Demacia. She had been practicing, but she had a habit of stepping on the toes of her dance partner, her cheeks burning at the thought of embarrassing herself and Jarvan in front of a crowd of his peers and subjects.

Shyvana shivered, electricity running up and down her spine, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. Shyvana ran her gloved hand along her collar as she tried to quell the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

_I can feel the malcontent in the air right now._ Shyvana grimaced as she looked about, trying to find the source of the discontent and malice that was seemingly directed towards her. _I don't like this feeling… something isn't right here._ Shyvana studied and listened to the soldiers around her, but many paid her little to no heed.

"_I'm ready for the weekend… I hear that… Maybe Seymour will let us go early today… you know he's not that decent a motherfucker…_" The chatter was focused on the weekend and the relaxation that it would bring. Shyvana closed her eyes and continued listening, trying to tune out what idle chatter she could. "_Good food, a good lay… your girl's a hoe, man… ah bite me… maybe once that 'girlfriend' of yours is done… bastard…_" Laughter followed as Shyvana blushed at the thought. _Soldiers think about four things according to Vorscham… the four F's. _She shook her head. _Fighting, Feeding, fleeing and mating._ She shook her head and then frowned, thinking back to the day she had spent with her friends and Jarvan. _I suppose I'm no different._ Shyvana shook her head again to clear her thoughts, taking a deep breath as she looked around, she could feel the color in her cheeks. _Most everyone is looking forward to the break… but someone is looking for me._

A small knot of soldiers caught her gaze moving towards them and started a hushed conversation among themselves. Shyvana's ears perked up at the hushed tone, and she frowned as she watched them. _They speak in hushed tones as if they have something to hide. Not from the officers, but everyone around them. _Shyvana looked about the group and then she scanned the crowd for officers, noncoms, or even other soldiers who they might be hiding something from. _I don't see anything out of the ordinary… What are they hiding?_ One turned and cast a quick glance at her, Shyvana's stomach flip flopped uncomfortably. Dark and piercing eyes glared back at her, hardened by years of combat and death. _Those are the eyes of a veteran. They're the ones I felt crawling over my skin…_ Shyvana grimaced.

"Oi! Miss Dragon!" A pair of soldiers with goofy grins on their faces approached Shyvana where she stood against the wall,, stumbling out of the barracks. "Me and Jimbo here just wanted to thank you for this weekend!" Their voices were slurred slightly as Shyvana looked to where the two men staggered forward. They both wore patches that designated them from Noventus Company, a unit that had transferred into the barracks recently for training as Victoria Company prepared to deploy.

"I had nothing to do with it." Shyvana said tersely, trying to keep the irritation from her voice. The two men had stopped a little ways off and were looking about the courtyard with impressed expressions that were made to look goofy with the slack jawed gazes they couldn't quite erase. One mouthed an impressed expression and then other screwed up his face as if he was thinking about something far too hard.

"That's not what the rumors say…" The second soldier slurred, hanging from his buddy's shoulder.

"Perhaps you two should return to your drink." Shyvana said tightly, her irritation mounting. She looked back to the assembled forces but she couldn't pick out the knot of soldiers that had been looking at her before. They had either dispersed or moved off. _I didn't recognize them… perhaps they were from Noventus as well?_

"Aww, don't be like that, luv-*_hic_*." The drunken soldier looked surprised and then started to giggle.

"Yeah, rumor says is you and tha prince they's is havin' this party for…" The second grinned stupidly. "So I just thought I'd say my salutations…"

"You mean ah-pre-she-ay-shuns?" The first stumbled over the word as he tried to sound it out.

"Yeah that…" The second laughed. "Oi, girly, you paying attention?"

Shyvana glanced at the two soldiers, rolled her eyes again and turned away, looking back to the crowd again.

"Oi…" The first reached out to grab her shoulder but Shyvana turned and snapped at them, flames sparkling along her feet as she struggled to maintain her temper.

"You should go now." Shyvana growled, the two soldiers' faces paling noticeably. They didn't move and Shyvana snorted, sending curls of steam jetting from her nose. "Leave me." She growled guttural. "Less you wish to lose a hand."

"R-right…" The first muttered, turning away and slinking off. "Angry tosser… Open up a bit."

"What, her legs or her mind?" His friend guffawed, spraying a mix of snot and booze addled drool down his front. Shyvana hissed and growled at them, stomping one foot forward at them and sending them scampering away. "_Stupid bitch_." Shyvana sighed and rolled her eyes as the two men and their muttering faded from earshot.

Shyvana returned to the wall, keeping her distance from the other soldiers. While many were not openly hostile, they kept their distance from her even among training exercises. Shyvana had earned respect from a few of them, even their admiration for her bravery in the face of incredible odds, but many of them still viewed her as a golden child, given the position given by the prince simply because of her pretty face. While some of the officers and soldiers trusted her, and her strength, they also feared her. The threat of the damage she could cause, the pain she had inflicted and the destruction that had followed in her wake had created a void between her and the other soldiers. The other soldiers simply eyed her with jealousy, the men lust, the women, envy. They were jealous of her power and her stature.

Shyvana viewed many of the other soldiers with equal contempt. Most of the enlisted men, despite being considered among the elite of Demacia's recruits, they were still young enlisted men. Yes, there were some that desired office among the government, some desired to be officers, and some even desired glory, but many were simply good at what they did, and they were serving their three years service. As such they were dirty, disobedient and horny under the rules that the others in Demacia lived under. They were the men who were charged with keep Demacia's borders and her rulers safe, and while they sat around boring themselves, and wasting their time following orders and dealing with constant training. They took their frustrations out through fighting, booze and women, often wasting away what little time they could get away with before they were called upon. Many viewed their duties with contempt, for they were young and knew nothing of true combat, of the life and death that came with the pain fighting for one's life upon the field of battle. Shyvana had experienced that pain, that terror under Kampf's heel. She had been raised in that pain, born of it, but Jarvan had seen the good in her. He had seen the strength she wielded and now her attempted to temper her into a blade that could be wielded by Demacia.

Shyvana took deep breath, turning back to the crowd of soldiers, suddenly feeling the stress of once again being an outcast. She may have become close to a few; Vorscham, Alicia, Delancey and Forsythe, but still, most of Demacia viewed her with distrust and fear. _I shall earn my place in time._

Shyvana shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, looking around the quad, trying to find anyone from the small group of soldiers she had seen, but there was no sign of them. Victoria Company was spread out around the training area, some lounging and some standing at parade rest, watching as the officers stood in the center of the training arena and conversed with each other. Each of the lieutenants had their noncoms with them, and Major Seymour was shouting at the top of his lungs, attempting to appear scary with his normally mousy face. Shyvana raised a hand to cover her smile, the resulting expressions he cycled through were a strange mix of constipated and cross eyed. Shyvana stood against one of the far walls, turning her attention towards watching Vorscham take the Major's shouting and ranting.

Alicia glanced over, Shyvana letting a moment of surprise show as she watched the anger show through the gunny's normally calm demeanor. Alicia caught the crack in her armor and tried to shore it up with a smile, but the pain and frustration was still in her eyes and how the corners of her mouth were bunched up much tighter than normal.

_Something is wrong here._

Vorscham looked over at Shyvana, pointed at her and then turned back to Seymour, shouting something that caused the major to sink back in surprise. The major looked at Shyvana, a sour look on his face and gestured for her to approach the group before turning back to Lieutenant Vorscham. Shyvana pushed herself off the wall, settling her gauntlets on the lip of her tassets as she approached. She tucked her helmet under her arm as she stepped forward and the voices became clear enough to understand.

"This isn't a _decision_ to which you have any input, _Lieutenant_." Seymour's voice was shrill and scathing. "It has already been decided!"

"I don't give a damn about your _decision_, you incompetent fool, seeing as it is a stupid fucking decision. So I want you to do me a favor, take your fucking orders and your decision and shove your shit back where it belongs!" Vorscham snarled ferociously.

"Lieutenant…" Alicia said gently, resting a hand on his shoulder, trying to pull him away from the major, but Vorscham snarled and tugged his shoulder away from her, wheeling on Alicia.

"Don't even try to defend him." Vorscham wheeled back towards Seymour, the man shrinking back as Vorscham lowered himself to Seymour's level, poking him in the chest. "Maybe you'd like to step into the fucking ring yourself and show us how much of a man you really are? Or did you lose your balls the last time your sucked a cock for your last promotion?"

"Y-you… you _cretin_…" Seymour snarled. "Guards! Detain him!" Seymour spluttered. The other lieutenants looked apathetic for a brief moment barely able to contain their utter surprise at their fellow lieutenant's outburst. Their surprise slowly faded to confusion, glancing from Vorscham to Seymour and back again.

"Sir?" One of the other lieutenants said tentatively.

"Did I stutter?" Seymour snapped shrilly, his voice cracking.

"Yes." Vorscham barked a sharp laugh, grinning maliciously.

"I have half a mind to have you shot right here, right now!" Seymour growled, his hands shaking in fury. "This…this… t-this insubordination is borderline treason!"

"Half a mind, no spine…" Vorscham snarled, laughing sharply again, his eyes narrowing. "How do you function?"

"Shut him up!" Seymour snapped, turning red in the face. He spun, forcing himself to calm, wheeling on Shyvana and gesturing towards the ring. "You, dragon, you're up, get into the ring." Seymour hissed, waving Shyvana forward dismissively.

"Sir?" Shyvana growled softly, glancing at the officer and grimacing.

"Get into the ring." Seymour snapped. "Gunnery Sergeant Juniper, since your commander seems so reluctant, you're going to run the exercise. I shall choose a squad for you to command." Seymour made a show of looking out over the quad with an imperious stare. If he'd been taller you could have called it regal, but as Shyvana stepped into the ring unceremoniously, she turned to watch the little man look about and she realized something.

_He looks just like a rat standing on his hind legs…_ Shyvana suppressed the thin smile and spread her feet slightly, trying to calm the uneasy feeling that had settled in the pit of her stomach like a block of ice.

"What?" Alicia looked surprised at the major's orders. "But I…" The major turned, his mounting frustration clear on his face. He reeled a hand back and backhanded Alicia across the cheek, sending the gunny reeling.

"I grow tired of this constant insubordination!" Seymour snarled. "Do your job, or I will have you jailed as well!"

"Alicia!" Vorscham snarled, his eyes wild and wide, jerking away from his captors. He charged forward and grabbed the major by the collar, lifting him upwards, clear off his feet, raising his arm back. "You corrupt little fuck! How dare you!?"

"Proudmast!" Alicia shouted, grabbing his arm to keep him from striking the major. Vorscham looked down at her, his face contorted in unbridled rage. She offered him a pained smile, her cheek red, blood dripping down her chin from a split lip. "Don't! It's not worth it!"

"But… he…" Vorscham stammered, deflating slightly. His expression was conflicted, but he lowered the major to the ground and backed away. He held his hands away from his body, his palms out. Seymour bustled and bristled as he straightened his jacket. He looked down at his fist and then hauled an arm back and struck Vorscham across the chin. The lieutenant took the blow, his head twisting about, but he did not speak or move. He simply glared back at the major, his eye scathing. Seymour hissed, sucking on a knuckle, shaking his hand in pain.

"Someone shoot him, now!" Seymour snarled, but the other lieutenants stood by, silently watching, unflinching. They flanked Vorscham on either side, but no one dared detain him, his glare scathing and filled with fury. "I demand-…"

"Major, if you lay a hand on either of my friends again, the entirety of Victoria Company will not be able to contain my fury." Shyvana growled, her voice hissing almost inhumanly. The ground around her shuddered slightly, pebbles shivering atop the dust. Her bangs fluttered as heat poured from her body, her fist quivering. The major turned to glare at her, but he took a half step backwards, making a show of straightening his tunic where Vorscham had crumpled the collar.

"Do not think your idle threats have swayed me." Seymour stammered. The crack in his voice suggested otherwise though. "I order you, Gunnery Sergeant, to run this drill!"

"Why? This isn't a drill anymore, it's a pointless show of power." Alicia said firmly, and she looked to Vorscham for support, but as the lieutenant started to move forward, the men descended upon him. He tried to struggle against the men who detained him, but they had his arms firmly behind his back and he wasn't able to move so much as an inch..

"Cool it, Vorscham…" One of the sergeants growled. He leaned in slightly, but Shyvana could hear his words. "Don't make us go get the MPs, we don't like this any more than you…"

"I ordered you to run the drill, gunny." Seymour said, turning to face the gunny fully.

Alicia looked conflicted for a few brief moments before she turned to Shyvana, watching her for a brief moment and then steeling her expression. She turned back to Seymour, set her feet just wider than shoulder width apart and glared at Seymour. Alicia was tall among the other female soldiers that stood around the courtyard, her lithe and slender build augmented by the uniform and armor plating she wore. She lifted her chin up, looking down her nose at Seymour with distaste dripping from her voice. "No."

Seymour wore a bit of a smile as if he was happy he was asserting his dominance as he looked about, the comment rolling over him as if she hadn't responded. He blinked twice, the two beady eyes suddenly bugging out as he turned and glared at her, his face turning pink in anger. "What did you say to me?" He hissed, almost hysterically.

"I said 'no'." Alicia responded, her arms held behind her back, her voice both cold and firm. "I refuse to carry out this meaningless show." The disgust poured from her voice.

"Fine." Seymour muttered in disgust, sighing softly, turning to another officer. "Lieutenant, detain them both and fetch the MPs. Get them out of my sight."

The lieutenant Seymour had spoken to looked hesitant, glancing at Vorscham and then Alicia in turn. He mouthed a quick apology to Vorscham as he took him by the arm and turned him way, leading him towards the door that led into the depths of the barracks. His assistant started to approach the gunny, but she nodded her head briefly at the man. "A moment please, Corporal?" The man looked hesitant, but nodded. Alicia stepped forward, the soldiers' hands darting to their weapons, but Alicia walked past the startled Seymour to Shyvana. She leaned in toward Shyvana. "They will show you no compassion. You must show them none as well." Shyvana opened her mouth to speak, but she snapped it shut and simply nodded. Alicia stood up, nodding at Shyvana before she turned swiftly, following after her lieutenant, the other sergeant and corporal following behind her, their hands upon sabers.

"Now." Seymour said, taking a deep breath and letting it out in frustration. "With those _cowards_ are out of the way, we are going to be holding a live combat drill with full arms and armor to simulate the experience of being outnumbered and outmatched. You shall be first up, dragon, seeing as you've been spending all this extra time training with Prince Jarvan instead of your duties as a member of this company."

"What duties?" Shyvana growled, forming fists. "I have never been assigned any extra duty…" She could feel leathery skin tighten over her knuckles as she could feel the leather of her gloves begin to tug as her fingernails turned to claws. She could feel fire and anger building in her chest.

"You didn't hear?" Seymour said, grinning thinly. "You were to clean the latrines. Consider this your punishment." He laughed aloud, and Shyvana struggled to keep a wall of flames from erupting around her. She exhaled a cloud of steam slowly, stretching her hands out to try and keep the transformation from progressing.

"I assume this is an order?" Shyvana growled.

"Of course." Seymour said, grinning coldly and gesturing towards the arena. "You are still a member of this company. Or perhaps you think yourself too good to be included in our training exercises?"

"Very well." Shyvana said softly, stepping towards the center of the arena. "Do what you wish." Shyvana pulled her helmet on, shaking her head slightly to clear the hair from her eyes as she dropped down into a fighting stance to await her opponent.

"Lieutenant." Seymour said sternly, adopting a pose of superiority, looking over the dragoness as she stood in the middle of the dragon. "You shall command Delta squad of Second platoon. They recently transferred in and need to be evaluated. This will be a good test for them." Seymour raised and hand and beckoned towards the crowd of soldiers. "Gentlemen?"

"Uh… yes, sir." The lieutenant said hesitantly, a frown on his face. He looked to the crowd where several soldiers were already moving forward. "Second platoon, delta squad, you're up!" He shouted, waving the men forwards. Ten men emerged from the crowd, smiles upon their faces. Whispers started to fade through the crowd, it was obvious that these men were no new recruits and had been recognized by some of the men.

Shyvana felt the ice coalesce into a solid lump of dread in the pit of her stomach.

_It's those same men… that means… _Shyvana snarled, turning to Seymour and glared at her. He shriveled slightly, but there was a cold gleam in his eyes. _What are you playing at, Major?_

"This is a live combat exercise, men." Seymour said haughtily, turning away from Shyvana. "I want you to replicate the stress of true combat. No going easy on anyone. Shields!"

Seymour and the other officers left the arena, letting the mages step forward. Their staffs went up and then shimmering blue energy spread out around the edges of the arena, walling Shyvana off from the rest of the company.

"Don't worry, this won't hurt much." The first man growled, grinning thinly as he cracked his neck. He drew his sword from his belt, holding the shield on his left arm forward and away from his body. His compatriots did their same, drawing weapons from their persons, a mix of axes, knives, swords and lances. They shifted slowly, keeping shields forward with lances just behind and other weapons dispersed through the group. Shyvana locked eyes with the leader of the men, his dark eyes glistening in the overcast day's light. His eyes were cold and dark, they looked like Vorscham's eyes, not the eyes of the men and women Shyvana had trained with over the past months.

_These men aren't trainees… they've seen real combat. They've tasted blood._ Shyvana posted her fists upon her waist, an imposing grimace upon his face. "Explain just what it is you're doing here… You're no trainee… you've the eyes of a man who has seen enough blood to learn to enjoy it." She sniffed the air, the fowl stench of copper lingering about them. "You stink of spilt blood." The men looked surprised at first, but that surprise soon turned into a mix of excitement and smiles. The men tried to look imposing, and behind the wall of shields, Shyvana couldn't help but feel the pressure of their gazes.

"We're just participating in a little training exercise." The one with the dark, angry eyes said with a sharp and boastful laugh. He was obviously the leader of the group, it showed in his stance and his dress. The gorilla like thugs he surrounded himself with wore the traditional Demacian uniform and armor, though the leader wore a sergeant's rank tabs. His sleeves had been rolled up, revealing scars and sun darkened skin. His stance was aggressive, his weapon and shield forward, his feet spread wide and his knees bent, ready to dodge or charge in an instant. Shyvana frowned, looking around the rest of his men. The rest of his thugs seemed slightly less prepared, but they were all attentive and their weapons were held at the ready. Their uniforms were tattered but well maintained, they had seen heavy usage and there were signs that they had been repaired in places and patched from wounds. Most of the leader's stooges nodded their heads lamely, grinning with sloped brows. Behind them all, the lieutenant looked lost as he glanced left and right, surprised by the men's immediate movements and well-coordinated actions.

"I can't believe they called us to spank this pretty little things tail." One of the larger, dumber looking ones said with an audible grunt. Shyvana snarled at him, and he shrunk back a fraction of a step. He frowned, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Shyvana. They were small but intelligent, a clear green color. He was as broad as a house and his hands looked rough as if they had been cast of bricks. He may not have been the type of soldier who would just bull straight through a wall rather than opening the door, but it looked like he could have easily done so if he needed. Not that he could even fit through a normal sized door. "I think I recognize her…"

"Stow it, Holtz." The leader growled.

"Come on, Fury." Another of the men growled. "We only just got home, why the hell are we doing this shit for Jorgun? I just want to go take a god damn break for a few days before we have to deal with more of his shit."

"For fuck's sake, I thought I told you morons to shut the fuck up?" The leader, called Fury, growled, shaking his head, his shoulders slacking slightly as he looked back. "We do this for Jorgun and we all get a nice fat bonus, so shove it and get fucking ready!"

Shyvana blanked, blinking several times as she dropped her guard slowly. _Jorgun_… _I've heard that name before… Jormander?_

"God, fuck." Fury muttered, shaking his head as he turned back to Shyvana. He sighed and scratched the back of his head, shrugging when he looked back to Shyvana. "Sorry love, can we make this quick? Me and the boys just want to get back and take a load off, we've been on deployment for the last few weeks."

"I don't even know who you are." Shyvana growled, raising her weapons back up, dropping slightly into a more defensive stance, glancing about the other men, sliding back slightly. "This Jorgun you speak of... do you mean General Jormander?"

"Oh so you do know the general? I don't know what exactly happened between you two, but it's not my place to ask." Fury shrugged, grinning viciously. "General Jormander wants you dead, sweetie. I'm just doing my job."

"What!?" Shyvana hissed, her eyes wide, her nostrils flaring in anger. "That bastard…"

"Oi, what are you men even doing here?" The lieutenant from Victoria Company said, looking closer at the men he was in the arena with. "I've never even seen you before."

Fury sighed again and shook his head. "Holtz, if you please?" The large man frowned, but nodded. He took two massive steps and slammed his fist into the man like a shot from a cannon. The lieutenant's eyes went wide as he tumbled backwards and crashed to the ground, rolling several times before he ended up on the ground, his mouth hanging open, no movement coming from his body at all.

"What?" Shyvana blinked several times, again taking a step back. "Just who are you?"

"We are called Judgement, for we end all of those who deserve Demacia's righteous fury." Fury chuckled, shaking his head, offering Shyvana a mocking bow. "I'm surprised you've never heard of us before, we carry a reputation for taking care of all of the dirty jobs that Demacia doesn't want to be tied to." He wore an evil grin that spoke of just how much he enjoyed his job. His expression turned cold and angry in an instant. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm telling you, Fury, I've heard about this one..." The large one named Holtz murmured.

"Oh, stow it." Fury chuckled. "She won't be able to do anything against us." He snorted and leaned forward, grinning. "I just want you to know, you were shit out of luck when you crossed the general. There is nothing ahead that with change your fate. The only thing that awaits you is your inevitable doom."

Shyvana smiled, bearing massive fangs. "So, what's your point?" She slammed her fists together and snarled, flames exploding around her gauntlets and flaring up brightly as she reared back, roaring into the sky. Her skin faded to a blue hue, scales rippling up amid her skin and hardening like leather. Her clothes burned away, the ash falling to the ground around her, getting whipped away by the wind as she stood up straight, taking a deep breath and looking to Fury. Glowing orange slits burned bright as she watched him with a wicked, fang filled smile on her face.

"W-w-what the fuck?" Fury stammered, stumbling back a step, his men faltering slightly. "What _are_ you?"

"My name is Shyvana, the half-dragon." The dragoness's voice cold was and inhuman, a deeper sub tone causing it to echo menacingly. "I serve the prince, and no one else, and you, _Fury, _are going to learn the definition of that word." Flames swirled along the ground around her, the armored braid that hung behind her swinging about menacingly, ridding the waves of heat that swirled about her.

"She's the one who beat Captain Crownguard in a duel." Holtz said softly, sinking back slightly. "She's not just half dragon, she can transform into a full dragon when she needs. This is looking bad..." Murmurs began to pass through the men around them, their weapons dropping slightly.

"Shut up!" Fury barked angrily at his men, trying to calm them. It wasn't working though, and his men were starting to waver. He was running out of time before Shyvana won from the simple fear she had already instilled in the men before her. "It's just a rumor. Hearsay from the Royal Guard and their nonsensical sensationalism."

"Send your best then." Shyvana said, settling into a fighting stance, one arm raised and back, the other held in front of her, one ready to defend, the other ready to strike. "And don't bother with your scraps, I forgot my broom to sweep out the trash." Fury's face was red in anger and his fists quivered. He waved the men forward with a violent grin on his face.

"I'm going to make you eat those words." Fury snarled, rolling his sleeves further up his arm. "Get her, boys. Let's teach this bitch her place! Charge!"

_In an instant he turned their fear into strength, their trepidation into anger. _Shyvana indulged in a thin smile. _This shall not be an easy fight. _

The front half of the squad of men that hung around him like a bad stench charged forward, surging like a wave to meet Shyvana head on. Lumbering was probably a better choice of words, they seemed to come like a tidal wave of girth and muscles, their hands apart and settled into grappling positions, their sword and shield practically cast aside as they charged, driven wild by their fear and anger.

_Left, then right._ Shyvana steeled herself, lowering her stance further. Her flames burned higher and hotter as she indulged herself in a smile.

Shyvana stepped forward into the surge and reared her fist back as she stepped into the arc of the first man's attack, clothes-lining the first man that had charged ahead of the rest. His feet lifted up from beneath him, leaving him hanging in the air for a few brief moments as Shyvana spun, her hair snapping through the air like a whip. She brought her elbow down hard on his sternum, slamming him into the ground so hard that blood fountained from his mouth and dust rippled from beneath his body. Shyvana swung across her body with a left hook that caught a second man upon the temple snapping his head around. He was lifted off his feet as the momentum carried his body further on, his head swinging down around his body as he stumbled to try not to fall, his weapon and shield hitting the ground and bouncing away. Shyvana turned and slammed her right elbow into the second man's face as he reeled, splattering blood down the front of his armor. The man continued stumbling backwards from the force of the blow as he tried to stay on his feet. Shyvana took two steps and spun about as she followed up the first elbow strike and slammed the second man in the back of the head with the broadside of her arm. His skull cracked loudly against her gauntlet as the man slammed face first into the ground, his teeth shattering upon the packed dirt. He tried to scream in pain and grasped at his mouth and nose, blood pouring down his face, a pathetic gurgling coming from his throat.

Shyvana leaped backwards, rolling along the ground and bringing her head up as an ax crashed through the air where she had just been standing, striking the dirt and the stone beneath with a few sparks hitting the ground. Shyvana grinned as she let flames swirl around her hand. She threw the flames forward, feeding the projectile with her anger, watching as the man coiled backwards, trying to dodge what he could and defending his face with the ax as flames bounced across his body. Shyvana took the brief moment of distraction to launch herself forward, tucking both legs into her chest as she kicked out, catching the man's ax with her boots. The broad side of the weapon stuck him in the face, the man crashing backwards, barely managing to stay on his feet as he brought the weapon up to strike blindly. Shyvana had just landed and brought her gauntlets up as the ax came down like the headman's stroke, catching it in the crook of her gauntlets as she crossed them. The man looked surprised as Shyvana pushed upwards, breaking his stance, the handle of the ax starting to creak as flames flared around the dragoness. She snarled and twisted her arms about, ripping the ax from his arms and bringing him jerkily forth. Shyvana brought her fist back and slammed both fists into his chest, sending him cartwheeling away, skidding along the ground into a bloody pile, his body twisted about at an odd angle.

The remaining men had skidded to a halt as they watched with horror as Shyvana shook the blood from her gauntlet as if it were nothing. Shyvana cracked her neck and twisted her arm across her body in a simple stretch. She switched arms and wheeled her arm about, holding her shoulder as she did.

"She's inhuman..." One of the men murmured. Shyvana grinned, again bearing her fangs.

"No shit." Another muttered. "What's the plan, boss, she's much better than Jormander said." Fury grunted, his eyes upon the three men on the ground. None of them had seen it coming at all, and the remaining men seemed hesitant to charge again, though it came as a relief to fury that they had spread out in a half circle around the dragoness.

_Divide and conquer._ Shyvana scanned the group that had started to surround her. _Thin the herd and then clean up the scraps. Right three first._

One of the men took a step too far and Shyvana lashed out with a boot, catching the man by surprise. The blow caught his hand as he tried to dodge, a trail of flames following the arc of Shyvana's kick. The man yelped and jumped back, his sword tumbling to the ground, and skittering through the dirt, disappearing into the chaos. The second soldier took advantage of it and charged in with his lance held around gut level, and he was nearly a head taller than Shyvana. The dragoness caught the weak charge of his lance by trapping it in between the fangs of her gauntlets and twisting to apply force keep it locked in her grip. She ripped him forward and grabbed his hand by the wrist and twisted it across his body, pulling the man in and across her body, driving him down, using his mass against him. She brought his arm down onto her knee as she twisted his wrist down and across her knee, raising an arm up above the man's wrist, bringing her elbow down to smash his arm with a sickening crack of bone. The man screamed in pain as his wrist snapped, his sword tumbling from his grasp as Shyvana brought her rearward knee up and into his temple, twisting him about and lifting him upwards off the ground. She held him for a moment while he squirmed, pulling her arm back and striking him in the lower back. She twisted her arm about, sending him spinning away, letting him slam him into the dirt unceremoniously.

The third man was standing slightly back and he held his sword at his side, his shield hanging freely as well. Shyvana launched herself forward, planting a flame cloaked blow directly onto the man's chest. He blew a breath out explosively as he stumbled backwards, and Shyvana spun low and swept his feet out from under him, and then slammed a fist into his face. The man slammed into the ground and bounced backwards, his weapon and shield bouncing away from him. Shyvana spun, trying to reacquire the man she had disarmed with a kick.

"You bitch!" He lunged at Shyvana and wrapped his arms around her, trying to trap her. "Now, get her!" His mates began to close, the second three barely moving as they watched. Their comrades shout started them from their stunned state and they started forward. Two charged forward, their weapons raised and aimed for Shyvana's gut. Shyvana sucked in a breath and exhaled sharply, a quick cloud of flames forcing them to bring their arms up in defense of their faces. Shyvana took this moment to kick off the ground and used the man she was being grappled by to lever herself up, tucking her knees to her chest and then kicking out, catching the two who were charging in the chest, knocking them backwards. Shvyana continued through her arc, ripping her arms from the man who tried to hold her. He managed to keep a grip on her arm though, producing a knife from somewhere and sinking it into the Dragoness's leg.

Shyvana snarled and lashed out at him, smashing the side of his head with a haymaker, sending him stumbling away, but the third man of the new group had finally closed and he took advantage of the brief moment of Shyvana's reaction to try and grapple her in a similar fashion to the one before. Shyvana's leg was dragging slightly as she tried to turn to the second thug who was trying to grapple with her arms behind her back, but he was bigger than the first and his footing was better. Shyvana snarled as she summoned flames around her arms, the heat dripping from her hands like molten metal, the man screaming and releasing her. Shyvana ripped her other arm free, reached up and around, grabbed the man' by the collar of his jacket and slung him across her her back. She rolled as she tucked her knees into her chest and kicked out, sending the man arcing through the air. He slammed down onto the energy barrier and bounced off with almost equal force, arcing back through the air toward Shyvana.. Shyvana waited a brief moment as his arms flailed back towards her, taking a single step to the side and reaching her arms back. Shyvana slammed his nose with a windmill blow that spun him about and sent him cartwheeling across the ground, rolling to the ground at Fury's feet.

Shyvana yanked the blade from her leg and cast it aside with a snarl. She grimaced against the pain and then charged the last two men who were just regaining their balance. Shyvana hauled off and decked the first, slamming his head into the ground and then slamming an armored boot into the side of his head so he wouldn't get up again. The second turned and started to run, but Shyvana summoned her flames, letting it swirl around her arm like a living creature before she cast it outwards. The flames incinerated his heels, and he cried out in pain as he crashed to the ground. Shyvana watched him flail for a brief moment before she lunged forward and slammed a gauntlet into his stomach so hard that he blacked out and fell silent.

Shyvana looked back over her shoulder. _Nine down, one to go..._

"Just who the fuck are you?" Fury snarled with anger, wearing a horrified expression. Shyvana turned to the crowd that stood behind the magicked barrier, watching in aww, most of them simply standing with their mouths hanging open.

"Can one of you go and get the doctor?" Shyvana said to the group of officers that stood behind the barrier. They all looked utterly stunned and none of them moved at all. One of them finally nodded silently and then scampered off.

"Pay attention to me, you fuck!" The soldier left in the arena bellowed, a savage expression on his face. Shyvana twisted about, a dark grimace upon her face. "I'm not done with you, yet!"

"I told you not to send your scraps." Shyvana hissed, grinning cruelly. "If you have the balls to face me like the man you claim to be, then come forth and meet your maker!" The man's jaw was hung ajar in disbelief.

"I will end you!" He practically screamed. His face brightened and he smiled as he turned and started to fumble with something on his belt. Shyvana frowned, watching as he drew a odd, angular piece of metal from a leather pouch on his belt. He wore a victorious smile on his hand as he leveled the metal at her. A strange hole had been cut in the front of it, with little gaps spaced evenly around the hole.

"What is..." He squeezed the trigger and the crack of the gun firing sent Shyvana rolling away. She hissed as red hot pain blossomed from her arm. As Shyvana rolled, she hit the ground much harder than she meant to and ended up tumbling, landing at an odd angle. She started to get up, slowly. She touched a hand to the pain and it came away red.

"What are you going to do now that you can't get close to me?" Fury boasted happily, keeping the pistol in one hand and his sword in the other. "This pistol is the very latest model, straight from Piltover. You managed to survive one shot, care to try for two?"

Shyvana got her feat beneath her and got up, her eyes burning like the sun, anger clear in her expression. Shyvana took a deep breath and let flames begin to build around her, the heat literally dripping from her like magma. It pooled on the ground and started to burn, Shyvana beginning to move around the edge of the arena. A trail of fire was left in her wake, the fires burning higher as smoke began to rise.

"What are you up to, bitch?" Fury snarled, following her with the gun as she finished her circle. She offered him a smile as she stepped backwards through the firestorm that raged around her. The last thing Fury saw was her golden orange eyes disappearing into the flames. Fury blinked a few times and then started firing wildly. "You think you can hide from me?" He emptied the clip in a wild arc around him, roaring in frustration. He dropped the empty clip and slammed another home, turning around and trying to look through the flames. Something dark flashed behind the flames, and Fury spun and snapped off two shots. "Show yourself, coward!"

"You missed." Shyvana purred happily, laughing. "You can't see me!"

"But I can hear you!" Fury barked, turning towards the voice and snapping off two more shots. Shyvana remained silent, only the crackle of the flames and the stench of burning hanging thick in the air. "Oli, oli oxen bitch!" Fury snarled into the wall of flames. "Come out you snarling cunt! Face me!"

"Why?" Shyvana hissed, something rumbling amid the flames as she circled him out of sight, hidden by flames and smoke.

"You've proved just how much of a monster you really are, so why don't you do yourself a favor and come out so I can rid Demacia of this plague." He barked a sharp laugh, but the confidence he carried earlier had gone, replaced by unease. "It'll be easier to get it over with now, don't you think? Instead of when the prince finally discards you like they all do?"

"You spew more hot air than I do." Shyvana growled, but Fury knew what he was doing, a grin growing on his face. "But hey, after I'm done with you, I'll go and visit the prince. We'll see what he has to say about it all."

"That means..." Shyvana said softly, putting two and two together. _These are the men who attacked Jarvan!_

Shyvana exploded from behind the cloak of flames, her arms stretched back as she let out a fearsome roar. Fury smirked and brought his pistol up, firing two shots directly at Shyvana's center mass.

Shyvana fell short of her lunge, crashing to the dirt as the flames subsided. A collective gasp erupted from the crowd.

Fury smirked as he stepped forward, his pistol still leveled at Shyvana. "It wasn't exactly painless but this end was inevitable. I hope you burn in hell, girl." He rolled Shyvana over with the toe of his boot, keeping his pistol leveled at her head. "What!?" Golden orange eyes glared up at him with hatred and fury burning in them, two strike marks decorating her red armor.

"Suprise." Shyvana snarled, lashing out and slapping the weapon from his hand. The report echoed around the arena, a smoking bullet hole sitting mere hairs from Shyvana's head. She exploded upward, lashing out at him with her fist, an explosion of flames launching her upwards at Fury's head. Her gauntleted fist connected with his chin, knocking him into the air.

Fury hit the dirt, bouncing once and then falling still.

Silence filled the arena.

The barrier fell as Seymour stepped forward into the arena, looking about and then frowning as he looked down at Fury. He forced a smile onto his face, looking to the dragoness. "Well done, it seems you've—AH!" Shyvana stepped forward and hauled Seymour off his feet, lifting him into the air by his collar.

"You're scum!" Shyvana snarled, shaking him like a ragdoll. "These men tried to kill me! They tried to kill Jarvan! Why were you working with them!?"

"Put him down!" One of the lieutenants shouted, his men charging forward, their weapons raised at Shyvana. She looked around and she felt regret, instantly, though she did not release the major. "Do not harm the major!"

"This bastard is no officer." Shyvana spat, growling as she glared up at the man. "Maybe I should just end it here and now. Put you out of your misery..."

"Please! Don't hurt me!" The officer begged. "I was only following instructions!"

"What?" The lieutenant looked surprised as he stepped forward. "Please, release him." He asked Shyvana calmly. Shyvana glared at the officer, snorted steam from her nose, and frowned but let him fall, the major stumbling slightly and ending up on his butt.

"Perhaps you'd like to explain yourself?" The lieutenant asked softly with a frown. "What is this she speaks of?"

"I was told the order was coming from higher." Seymour whined. "I was just following orders..."

"Who's orders?" Shyvana snarled. The lieutenant frowned at her and she sneered but took a step backwards. She looked around the other men, all of them leaving a healthy distance between them as she frowned. She looked to their eyes. _Fear... they fear me..._ Shyvana looked down at herself, her eyes growing wide as she looked over herself. Her hands were red with blood, her gauntlets tinged a crimson color save for where it was black from the blood and flames. She looked out over the arena as medics rushed to the men. One had a sheet pulled over him, blood staining the white cloth.

A jolt of fear ran through her body as she looked around, the fear and resentment that shown in the faces and eyes of the men who gave her a wide margin, refusing to get near her.

_They think I am a monster... _She looked back to the arena. _Oh Jarvan... what have I done?_ She shook her head and shrunk back silently desiring to disappear as the others watched her. Hands rested on weapons, and though they were not directed at her, Shyvana could tell that they were ready for her.

"General Jormander..." Seymour said, his voice wavering.

"Crap." The lieutenant said softly, shaking his head. He looked to Shyvana and beyond to where the medics worked, as a doctor pulled a sheet over a second body. "This is going to be a mess. Hal, go get the MP's on the double. Portho, I want you to head to the hospital and get a clean up and emergency response unit over her on the double. Lim, go let Alicia and Proudmast free, it's pretty obvious what happened here." The soldiers saluted and headed out, each hurrying away as quickly as possible. "Kikis, go fetch the XO, I need to brief him before the MP's get here. Celty, start informing the other platoon leaders that their men are to remain in the quad, the XO is probably going to want to address them." The lieutenant looked to Shvyana and then the rest of the men around. They were all casting fearful, wary looks at her, a growing void between her and the others. "Go get cleaned up." The lieutenant said, running a hand along the side of his head. "You may wish to stay in your room till someone comes for you."

Shyvana opened her mouth to protest, but the cold looks she was getting from all around sent the point home. "Yes, sir." Shyvana said softly. She turned and headed for the barracks, the other soldiers parting to let her through without having to get close to her. There were whispers throughout the crowds and though many of them couldn't be made out, Shyvana could hear some of them.

"_She's a monster... She killed a fellow Demacian... who's to say she won't kill us? ...beast..."_

_It's just like before... _Shyvana shook her head and moved quicker, wishing to escape the words that swarmed around her._ When I lost control and nearly killed Jarvan... _Shyvana shook her head, breaking into a run as she headed for her room. She slammed the door behind her and collapsed onto the bed.

_What have I done?_


	42. Chapter 41: Revelation

A knock came at the door.

"Shyvana?"

The dragoness looked up from the pillow she had pressed her face into, the material wet to the touch as she looked up. "June?" Shyvana said, blinking several times as she wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her tunic. "Is that you?"

"Yep!" Shyvana could hear the smile on the gunny's face in her voice alone. "Vorscham and I got turned loose when the MP's came for Seymour. I just wanted to check on you. Some of the men said you looked troubled when you left the courtyard."

_Were they worried about me so simply afraid that I might lash out if approached? _Shyvana remained quiet as she tried to shake off the fear she felt, the icy clutch gripping her heart. She looked down at her hands and then shook her head as they started to turn a daunting blue color. The dim light cast a blue shade upon everything, and gave her pale hands a demonic cast. Shyvana tucked her hands under her pillow again and shivered._ With these blue hands of man, I killed that man... that Demacian officer..._

"Shyvana, are you okay?" Alicia started to open the door, sending Shyvana scampering for the bed sheets, tugging them overhead as she burrowed underneath. The lump upon the bed shivered and stirred as Alicia let herself into the room. "Shyvana, what's wrong?"

"Go away!" Shyvana shouted, attempting to add force to her voice, but it cracked, leaving her sounding pained and hurt. Alicia flipped the light switch on, the hextech lanterns in the room bursting to light, casting a warm orange glow around the room as they flickered and settled.

"What's gotten into you?" Alicia said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, looking over the blanket covered lump that slithered away from her atop the bed. "The prince is here to begin the last of your training."

"Jarvan is here?" Shyvana squeaked nervously. Shimmering magenta eyes appeared under the of the edge of the quilt, glimmering up at the gunny. A smile started to spread over her face but it died quickly as Shyvana looked down at her hands, their appearance blue in the dim light of the blanket shrouded haven she had wrapped around herself. The fear came rushing back. "I... I don't feel well! Tell him I'll see him tomorrow."

"I... what?" There was confusion in Alicia's voice as the mattress creaked and sunk as Alicia shifted on the edge of the bed. "Is everything okay, Shyvana? You know you can talk to me if something is bothering you."

"I..." Shyvana's voice died again as she shook her head beneath the shroud of blankets. "Please, June, I don't want to see him this afternoon."

"Well, I'll try and explain it to him." Alicia said, shaking her head as she got to her feet and headed for the door. "I don't think he'll like it, but I'll make him understand."

"Thanks." Shyvana said softly. Alicia stood in the doorway. She lowered the lights down to almost nothing and started to close the door. "Hey, June..."

"Hmm?" Alicia said, pushing to door in slightly as she paused, her hand over the light switch.

"Can I talk to you after that?" Shyvana asked softly, sticking her head out from under the blanket. Her hair was a mess from when she had shaken it, long tufts of hair strewn at odd angles, flipped about and frazzled.

Alicia laughed softly and nodded. "Sure love, I'll be right back."

"Thanks." Shyvana murmured. Alicia smiled and then departed, leaving the room quiet and barren. Shyvana sat up, wrapping the blankets around her shoulders as she looked around at her meager belongs. There were a few spare uniforms neatly folded next to the dresser, a new mannequin with a set of dark grey armor that had been delivered that morning from the ambassador. It was polished and glimmered with dark menace, though the Demacian Emblem upon the shoulder glimmered brightly, even in the dim light of the room. A second patch had been emblazoned upon the opposite shoulder, the bright pale blue and yellow forming three stripes, like the claw marks of a beast. A horizontal bar across the top united the scratch marks, forming the symbol of a shredded standard. There were a few other outfits that had been folded and tucked on top of the dresser, but even with the bright clothes, the room seemed barren. Shyvana smiled despite this.

_I never had a room of my own before._ She pressed her face into her pillow, breathing deeply. Part of her didn't want to lose any of it, but part of her feared she would. Those men had attacked her, but when she fought back, she had let something dark within her surface, something fierce and malicious. Shyvana clutched a hand to her chest. _This is what hurt Jarvan. This is what nearly cost him his life. This darkness within me is dangerous to all who come near me… _Shyvana opened her eyes, peering over the top of her pillow as she hugged it to her chest. Her fingers were sharp and pointed, the tone of her skin a dark blue rather than the china white it should have been. _Am I losing my ability to control it? Is my anger so strong that it controls me? I'm truly becoming a monster..._

Shyvana clamped her eyes shut as tears started to stream down her face, the pillow dampening as she tried to hold back the pain she felt in her chest. _Jarvan... help me... I'm scared..._

_I'm scared of myself..._

...

A knock came at the door.

"Hey Shyvana, It's June. Can I come in?"

Shyvana opened her eyes, blinking several times against even the dim light of her room. She glanced at the clock as she ran a hand over her head, her eyes still stinging. She wiped at them with the sleeve of the loose tunic she wore, struggling into a lopsided position, her knees tucked into her chest, her pillow still clutched tight. She tugged the blanket around her shoulder.

_Two hours..._ Shyvana yawned, blinking the sleep from her eyes. "Yes, come in." Shyvana said weakly. Alicia opened the door and let herself in, pulling it closed behind her. She looked around the room as she slowly turned the lights up till she could see the room. Everything save the bed was as she had left it.

"How are you feeling?" Alicia asked.

"Not so great right now, honestly." Shyvana said weakly, offering the gunny a weak smile. Alicia offered her a sympathetic smile as the dragoness looked down at the table.

"Maybe this will help, then." Alicia said, producing a shining metal bottle. Alicia pulled two mugs from her bag and set them on the table. She opened the canister and poured two steam cups of hot chocolate for each of them before sealing the bottle. She set the bottle aside and then handed one of the cups to Shyvana.

"But..." Shyvana blushed. "This will make me..." She rubbed her eyes with a frown as she sat up on the edge of the bed, her legs crossed in front of her. She hugged a pillow to her chest, leaning heavily on it. The cloth was still damp in places, and she had bags under her eyes. She accepted the cup and held it to her face breathing in the scent. "It smells good."

"Drink, drink." Alicia urged. "It will help your nerves, if nothing else." Shyvana watched her for a brief moment before she exhaled slowly and nodded. She tipped the cup back, starting slow, but ended up downing the entire cup. Several long moments of silence followed as Alicia sipped her own cup, watching Shyvana intently.

"Those men... were they the men who attacked Jarvan before?" Shyvana asked, exhaling again, sighing softly.

"No." Alicia said softly, shaking her head. "Fury, an ass though he may be, was telling the truth. The Judgement, as they labeled themselves, _were_ a Demacian Security Brigade Black Operations Unit that reported directly to General Geoffrey Jormander. It seems he's been having quite the quarrel with the prince, and he chose to drag you into it as a way to strike at the prince."

"Jormander?" Shyvana said, frowning slightly. "Jarvan speaks of him with disdain often, though I have never met the man."

"I don't know why you would have." Alicia said, shrugging. "He's locked in a power struggle with another general, one who has taken Jarvan under his wing. As such, Jarvan was used against him, and due to his petty nature, Jormander is trying to get back at the prince." Alicia sighed, slumping back on the bed.

"Who told you all this..." Shyvana whispered, looking up from where she had tucked her chin behind the top of her pillow.

"Jarvan did." Alicia said, matter-of-factually, "He was asking about you. He was worried about you, Shyvana."

"I know..." Shyvana said with a small voice, looking down at one hand. It was a faint blue color and Shyvana quickly made a fist, clenching it several times till the blue faded back to the pale, pinkish color of her normal skin. "I... I don't wish to see him right now."

"Now those are words I didn't think I'd ever hear from your mouth." Alicia said with another frown.

"How many of them are dead because of me?" Shyvana said softly, staring down at her pillow. "How many are in the hospital, simply because I can't control my temper?"

"Shyvana, those men were trying to kill you." Alicia said softly. "They were cruel men who did horrible things to many people, both Demacian, Noxian and everywhere in between. The atrocities they committed were in the name of Demacia, yes, but the veil they hid behind was only shielding them from their crimes for so long. They were to be shut down and tried for their war crimes, and I can only guess that Jormander used that to convince them to attack you."

"How many are dead, Alicia?" Shyvana asked softly.

Alicia looked hesitant to respond for a few moments before she looked at her hands, frowning. "Three... The man named Holtz and two others. The rest are in the hospital, several in intensive care."

"See?" Shyvana said, shaking her head and staring at the ground. She hugged the pillow tighter to her chest. "I'm no Demacian, I'm only a monster. A wolf in sheep's clothes. Shyvana looked to where her dress for the next evening hung on the wall, tears starting to well in her eyes. "I'm a dragon, trying to pretend as a princess, June... I don't belong here. I don't deserve all of this."

"Shyvana..." Alicia said softly, starting to reach out to the dragoness.

Shyvana recoiled, shaking her head again. "Don't come any closer! I might hurt you!"

"That's rubbish and you know it." June growled, glaring at Shyvana with an angry frown. She sighed and softened it with a smile, reaching out and taking Shyvana's hand in hers. The dragoness was quaking softly, but her hands were warm. Alicia spread Shyvana's hand out with her fingers, tracing the lines on the dragoness's palm with a finger. "These hands are warm and soft." Alicia mused as Shyvana giggled slightly as she traced her fingers over the dragoness's palm. Shyvana tried to put on a glum expression and tugged slightly against Alicia's hold, but the gunny didn't let go. "You may have grown up with only your father, always on the run, but you don't have to run anymore, Shyvana. This is your home. You have family here now: Jarvan, Delancey, Vorshcam and I… We all care about you, more than you know. Besides... you're getting fat!" Alicia exclaimed, lunging forward and grabbing at Shyvana's stomach. The dragoness yelped and tried to roll away, surprised as the gunny grinned mischievously, wriggling her hands excitedly. Alicia kept after her, continuing to tickle the dragoness as Shyvana squealed and squirmed. "At least it's all going straight to your boobs!" Alicia said, cupping Shyvana's chest. The dragoness squealed and rolled away, her face burning a bright red.

"June!" Shyvana panted, "I'm going to hurt you if you keep this up!" Shyvana tried to escape again as Alicia resumed her tickle assault, letting Shyvana barely escape a second time. The dragoness dropped to the ground and rolled towards the corner, glaring up at the gunny with rueful eyes. She frowned at Alicia, tears in her eyes as she clutched the pillow tight to her chest still. "What's gotten into you?"

"I should ask you the same!" Alicia said, shaking her head as she lowered herself towards the dragoness. "What's gotten into _you_? You used to be so happy, so excited to face each day. You looked forward to every new day, taking every chance you could get to go and see Jarvan, but now you refuse to even see him. You just took down a team of elite, trained killers. Shyvana, you were fighting for your life! Wake up and see that you're not at fault here; you were attacked and everyone can see that except you."

"But I lost control..." Shyvana said softly, looking down to her pillow and pressing her mouth into the soft, down filled casing. "My anger... it's starting to take over..."

"Then don't let it take over." Alicia said softly, cupping the dragoness's cheek. Alicia stood up straight and looked herself up and down, making a show of examining her arms and legs. "Not a scratch on me, and frankly, tickling a fire breathing half-dragon is definitely something I would chalk up to as 'ways to get hurt'." She grinned as Shyvana blushed slightly. "You don't need to be afraid of your anger, Shyvana. Aim it, direct it and control it as best you can. Jarvan, and I... both of us know that you're not going to hurt anyone who is important to you."

"But, Jar-..." Shyvana started to say, but Alicia pressed a finger to her lips. Alicia shook her head, but Shyvana wriggled her mouth free. "But if I try to hurt Jarvan again, what would happen to us?"

"But nothing, love..." Alicia said, smiling softly. "It's not something you can just choose by yourself from now on." Alicia grinned. "Besides, You and Jarvan are a thing now... you did just say '_us_', didn't you? You're only one half of a greater whole, young one. If you're afraid of something, talk with Jarvan. He's got literal _years_ under his belt when it comes to that sort of thing. You're not the only one who is afraid of something they've done. Hell, Jarvan still refuses a command of his own at this point because he's afraid to get more people hurt."

Shyvana looked up at Alicia. "Does he really?"

"Jarvan has lost more than most." Alicia said softly, nodding, a warm smile spreading over her face. "But he pushes through every day as if it were nothing. He faces his fears, his regrets and everything is dislikes without pause, not just because it is his duty, but because he knows that he doesn't need anything else to be happy. You know why?"

Shyvana shook her head.

Alicia leaned down and tapped Shyvana on the nose. "He loves you." Alicia smiled happily as she stood up, extending a hand down towards Shyvana. The dragoness looked at the hand and started to reach out, faltering after a moment.

_If I hurt you or Jarvan again..._

Alicia grabbed her hand and pulled her up, wrapping her arms around the dragoness.

"And so do I, Shyvana... you gigantic idiot." Alicia hugged Shyvana tightly. "Whenever you want, whenever you feel bad, just ask. We can talk about anything you want."

_It feels so warm_. Shyvana pressed her face into Alicia's neck, holding onto her tight. _So this is what it's like to have a mother..._

Alicia held the embrace, stroking Shyvna's hair gently for several long moments. Alicia suddenly grabbed Shyvana's shoulders and held her at arm's length as she looked her up and down, taking the dragoness by surprise. Color started to flood the dragoness's cheeks, but the gunny hard already swept away. "Now. We have things to do."

"What?" Shyvana said, blinking as she held the pillow against her waist, looking around. "What's there to do?"

"Well..." Alicia said, brushing some of her sleek white hair from her face as she looked over at the clock on Shyvana's dresser. "If my timing is about right then there should be a knock, right about... now."

There was a knock at the door.

A smile spread over Shyvana's face. "How did you..."

Alicia grinned, moving to the door and pulling it open. Noel smiled happily, holding up a picnic basket in one hand and keeping a bag of her own slung over her shoulder. The maid was dressed in her usual black and white uniform, and she wore a heavy wool jacket and a white scarf over top of it. "Delivery."

"Noel!" Shyvana exclaimed happily. "What are you doing here?"

"I come bringing tidings of dinner!" Noel said, grinning. "Jarvan got me to bring all your favorites for when I fit your dress."

Shyvana blushed but smiled. "That big-hearted idiot."

"That's more like the Shyvana I know." Alicia said, beckoning Noel in.

"I also come bearing a package that was delivered to the Palace by accident." Noel said, producing a long, slender package. It was wrapped in heavy brown paper and tied with twine. The packaging had been torn and retied at one end. "I opened it. I hope you don't mind."

"What? Oh!" Shyvana accepted the package and pressed it to her chest, blushing slightly. "The prince didn't see this, did he?"

Noel shook her head. "No, I kept it secret when I realized what it was. He didn't have the chance."

"I swear to god, if Delancey convinced you to get a dil-...oh." Alicia said, lamely, as Shyvana pulled the brown paper back to reveal an ornate, slender dagger. The blade was a beautiful, dark shade of silver that was shaped into a dragon's head at its base, below a black-wrapped grip. Stumpy wings formed the cross guard and an elongated body formed the main part of the sheath. "That's a beautiful knife, Shyvana."

"Remember when I wished to get the prince a gift for Snowdown, but did not know what to get him?" Shyvana said with a proud smile. "I asked Miss Poppy to forge a blade for me using part of the dragon's horn from the dragon Jarvan and I slew." She ran her hand over the grip. "It shall be my way of reminding him of what we came through, together."

"That's..." Alicia broke into a smile as she patted Shyvana's head. The dragoness ducked her head slightly, blushing, but she smiled broadly. "I'm sure he'll love it. Now, we have a dress to fit so let's get started!"

"Yes!" Shyvana exclaimed excitedly.

* * *

Jarvan fidgeted with his uniform as he stood before the mirror, grimacing at himself.

"Stop messing with it, your highness." Noel said testily, batting his hand away.

"I feel so... stiff." Jarvan grumbled, trying to shrug his shoulders.

"Well I think you fit the part rather well." Noel said, stepping back, looking him up and down and then nodding to herself proudly. "You clean up surprisingly well."

"Har, har." Jarvan said, his voice bitter. His father had gotten a new dress uniform tailored for him just for this occasion. As Jarvan looked in the mirror, he did have to admit the Demacian dress uniform was striking. A deep shade of Demacian blue dominated the uniform, accented by heavy use of silver and gold. The ceremonial armor was much lighter and more flexible than the similar set that looked almost identical but offered full protection. Heavy sabatons came up to his knees and a set of tassets and faulds fell to low on his thigh. The chest piece was similar to his personal armor, where there was a centerpiece supported by heavy metal bands to prevent slashing cuts from gouging his chest. Large pauldrons were decorated to look like stylized wings from the front, and golden aiguillettes decorated both shoulders, the braided cords falling along his shoulders. A beautifully polished crystal sat in the center of his chest, and matching sheets lined his vambraces, falling slightly low over his hands to protect and augment the gauntlets he wore.

"Here, sir." Noel said, holding a glove out for him. Jarvan slid his hand in and flexed as Noel took care to tuck the gloves into the armor. She followed suit with the second glove. "Everything fitting well enough, sire?" She stood back to inspect him up and down, a thin smile on her pale face.

"Well enough." Jarvan nodded, tightening one of the straps on the inside of his forearm to cinch the vambrace on tighter. He kicked the heels of his boots on the floor a few times, the metal clanking as he settled his foot in the right place. He shrugged his shoulders a few times, letting the armor settle back into place. _It fit extremely well._

"She's never seen you as the prince before, has she?" Noel said, holding her right elbow against her torso with her left arm, resting her chin in her right hand.

"Shyvana?" Jarvan said, looking up, his face blanking. "Wait… Noel…" He took a step forward, worry befalling his expression. "Your face, there's something weird… it's on your face… what is that?" He grinned cheekily at the scornful look he received. "It's strange to see you smile."

Noel's look of surprise as she patted her cheeks down turned to scorn. "You!" She sighed. "There has been so little to be happy about for so long in Demacia." She shook her head. "Your mother and father are doing the best they can, but it's not hard to see when you walk the streets. People are worried about another war with all this talk of Kalamanda. Ever since your great-grandfather's death and the defeat he faced when he marched on Noxus… there has been little to be genuinely happy about. Nearly a century of conflict since and we're in no better position than before with the Noxians. Everyone expected the Institute of War to end all of the conflict in the world, but it's only made tensions so much higher. It didn't end open conflict, it only discouraged it."

"I remember the blanket of oppression that covered the city for so many years." Jarvan said softly as he sunk down on the edge of his bed to fiddle with a leather strap on his sabaton. "And it only got worse when my Grandfather died at the hand of an assassin. Those were bleak times. My father… looking back, I had no idea why he was so cold and I had no idea how he could be so calm at the time. I screamed and cried and demanded we attacks the Noxians for vengeance, thinking no one else could have been responsible. But he remained steadfast and he did not let it phase him, commiting so hard to the institute. To this day, I don't understand how it didn't cause him to falter even the slightest." Jarvan's voice trailed off as he stopped messing the sabaton for a moment. "I think that's why I hated him for so long. Not even a tear, a moment of grief. It was inhuman."

"I had been friends with your mother for many years when she married your father." Noel said softly as she kneeled before Jarvan and slid the sabaton off his leg, pulling the leather strap free and seating it properly. "Trey, Jarvan III, had been much like you back in those days. He was smart, smarter than anyone could possibly imagine and he knew it. He was also a prankster." She smiled softly and shook her head. "He was always suspected for everything, and he confided once that he often was, but no one could prove it. He was a bloody menace."

"Really?" Jarvan said, astonished. He blinked a few times, surprise and disbelief clear on his face. "I can't even imagine him smiling most days…"

"When you were born, Demacia was at war." Noel said reverently. "The Institute was brand new and it had failed initially to stop the conflict. The fighting dragged on for years on end, and when Noxus managed to conquer Ionia, your grandfather knew that something had to be done before Demacia was over run. He knew that he likely wouldn't be returning, and so did your father. It changed your father, having to accept that responsibility. He had been busy before, but now… now he had no time for anything. Your mother did the best she could to support him, but times were tough on both of them. Your Father hadn't been ready for the responsibility he faced. I was left to raise you as best I could."

"I didn't know about any of that." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "I mean, I knew some of the history, but my father…"

"He didn't know how to lead a nation any better than you know how to lead a nation, your highness." Noel said as she slid the sabaton back on. "He once asked me not to tell you about this, for hope that you wouldn't hate your mother for abandoning you, but now… Now I see that same frustrated young man who is simply trying to find his way through a lost world, and I don't want you to suffer the anguish that your father did for so many years."

Jarvan covered his mouth with a hand, looking at the ground. "I don't know whether to be happy or to hate him." Jarvan said softly, shaking his hand. Noel smiled as she stood.

"Just try to understand him." Noel said as she stepped away.

Jarvan nodded as he stood and checked his boot again to make sure it was seated properly. Satisfied, he looked to where Noel was removing a box from the cart that had borne Jarvan's armor. "You said it had been so long since there had been something to be happy about." Jarvan raised an eyebrow. "The current goings on in Kalamanda hardly seem like something to be happy about…"

"I wasn't referring to that, your highness." Noel said, grinning. "I was referring to this ball." She opened the box to reveal the prince's crown. Immaculately carved from silver and inlaid with deep blue stones and a brilliant gem that matched the others on his armor. She pulled it from the box. "And I was thinking of your and Miss Shyvana. There is nothing more worth celebrating than young love. "

"Is she doing well?" Jarvan said, looking back at Noel. "I haven't seen her since yesterday morning... and I heard about the disturbance in Barracks, but I haven't gotten all the details on it yet." Jarvan fell silent for several long moments. "She didn't want me to visit yesterday, either."

"She's in good hands." Noel said, nodding sagely. "The problems that arose with the garrison were taken care of by Lieutenant Vorscham and your father, so you needn't worry about it now. As for Shyvana, I spoken with Gunny Juniper, Alicia after I helped them fit her dress properly. She says that Shyvana is nervous, but excited. Alicia is taking care of her, and I went back to ensure her dress was perfect this morning."

"Wait…" Jarvan faltered for a second and he started to bend over so Noel could adorn his head with the crown. "Shyvana is wearing a _dress_?"

"You didn't know?" Noel looked surprised.

"I had assumed she would be wearing a dress uniform as well." Jarvan said, a look of both wonder and shock sliding over his face. He started to blush. "Oh…"

"Please do try not to drool on your dress uniform when you see her, your highness." Noel said, laughing lightly. She set the crown on his head and then stood back, making sure it was seated properly before stepping away. Jarvan nodded absentmindedly as his mind tried to imagine what Shyvana would look like in a dress.

A knock came at the door.

"That's probably the sergeant major." Noel said, glancing at the clock and frowned slightly. "He's early." She moved to the door and opened it just a crack to ensure it was _just_ the sergeant major. He stood at attention, waiting for entrance, his helm tucked under one arm and his hand upon the saber on his opposite hip. She opened the door fully and bowed. "Good evening, sergeant major. Can I assist you?"

"I need to speak with the prince, Missus Halsington." The sergeant major said seriously.

"Can it wait a few minutes?" Noel said, looking back over her shoulder towards the clock. "I was almost finished with-…"

"It is urgent, ma'am." The sergeant major said. His eyes were deadly serious and Noel's eyes hardened into a cold, icy blue that looked as cold and as deadly as a winter blizzard.

"Is the prince in danger?" She had produced a knife from out of sight, and checked it, looking at a sliver of the gleaming blade before sheathing it again. She looked past the sergeant major and then back to the prince.

"Not at the moment." The sergeant major said, frowning. "But I do need to speak with him."

Noel looked past him and frowned for a moment before opening the door further. "This way, please."

"Thank you." The sergeant major bowed his head and swept into the room, his cloak flowing behind him. He made sure Noel closed the door firmly before exhaling heavily.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Sergeant Major…" Jarvan said, smiling. His smile died when the sergeant major gave him a dark and foreboding look. "You didn't see a ghost... did you?" Jarvan shook his head. "Nevermind... What's wrong?" The sergeant major turned to look at Noel. "You can trust Noel, Argus." The sergeant major looked conflicted for a second but sighed softly.

"I don't wish to involve her..." The sergeant major started, but Noel stopped him with a raised hand.

"Please, I shall leave you if you wish it..." Noel said. Jarvan shook his head, and sighed.

"Continue, Argus." Jarvan said softly.

Perrywinkle frowned, but nodded."Yes, sir. Remember how Lee was actually a Demsec agent put in your unit to spy on you by Jormander?" The sergeant major waited till Jarvan nodded to continue. Noel was attaching Jarvan's cloak to his armor, underneath the armor on his shoulders and up and over his neck.

"He disappeared before anyone could confront him though, correct?" Jarvan's brow furrowed. "After the evening he supposedly saved me from the assassin, for the second time. Why?" Jarvan was tempted to ask if the sergeant major had been involved by General Lorcan, but thought better of it.

"I was looking through some of the suspended records that have been seized by Lorcan for his investigation into the court martial on the side, like you asked." The sergeant major said, frowning. "When a Demacian scientist was working through the slain assassin's possessions, he recognized the ice that was used in the bolts from your uncle's trip to the Freljord. They call it _Black Ice_ and it only comes through the deepest depths of the far north parts of the Freljord. Your uncle specifically noted its potential uses in assassinations, but for once Lorcan and Jormander saw eye to eye on something, and they refused to introduce the weapon. The report further states that among other things, there were none among the Avarosans willing to go deep enough into the northern wastes. Among the Avarosans there was a rumor that there were a few willing within the Winter's Claw."

"The Winter's Claw has ties with the Noxians, does it not?" Noel said softly, her hands hovering over Jarvan's shoulder.

"Didn't the original Lee transfer from the Freljord?" Jarvan said, starting to piece things together. "That might explain the Excursion as well." Jarvan said thoughtfully. Several minutes passed in silence as Noel finished the last of the preparations on Jarvan's Armor. Jarvan stepped away, adjusting his vambrace again before sighing heavily. "Did you retrieve what I what I asked for?"

"Yes sir." The sergeant major nodded his head. "And I got the weapon that was used to kill the would be assassin, and I managed to secret one of the sword away from Lorcan's office as well." The sergeant major said, producing two oblong shapes wrapped in burlap. He looked somewhat pale at the prospect of having stolen away a sword from one of the leading Demacian Generals, but his voice showed no signs of hesitation or regret.. He laid both packages out on the table and unwrapped them. "Why did you need them, sir?"

"I'll show you." Jarvan said, looking back over his shoulder to ensure Noel was finished. She nodded to him as she stepped away. Jarvan stepped into his closet, the cloak billowing behind him. He returned after only a few seconds and then laid a box upon the table and opened it.

"But that…" The sergeant major whispered, looking over the three blades. Jarvan set the blade from the box next to the others. "They're all, exactly alike."

"One of these is not like the other, though." Jarvan said, running his fingers along the shortest of the bladess. "This one, the knife, the pattern is almost exactly the same as the other two blades, but it doesn't match. The other two are the exact same order of blues, silvers and purples… There is no doubt, that this knife was forged to look like the others. I need to talk to the man who forged these, but I can't do it now. Tomorrow…" Jarvan stopped, shaking his head, looking /. "Tomorrow morning, we're going to visit the man who made these blades. I need answers."

Jarvan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. _This seals the deal. Lorcan is holding back. Kayle said to trust no one… I need to get the answers for myself._

"What is going on sir?" The sergeant major said, looking at the blades still.

"This blade was used in an assassination attempt upon my life when I was stranded in Noxus." Jarvan said softly, his hand resting on the short blade he had produced from within the box. "This second blade was used to kill the man who tried and almost successfully assassinated me within this very room. This third blade was cast by a swordsmith by the name of Constantin Steelsword who lives not far outside the city." Jarvan sighed softly and frowned. "This same man made two prints of the same picture, one of which hangs in general Lorcan's office."

"And the other?" Perrywinkle said, standing up straighter.

"The home of Katarina Du Couteau." Jarvan spoke the name softly, watching at it rolled over the sergeant major like a tidal wave.

"Your highness, you don't mean... you're not implicating General Lorcan, are you?" There was trepidation in the sergeant major's voice.

"I don't know who I am implicating or how deep it goes, sergeant major." Jarvan said, shaking his head. He stood up straighter and set his jaw. "But I intend to find out, no matter the consequences. You game, sergeant major? I need help, and I don't want to drag Shyvana into this. Not yet if I can help it. She doesn't need any more on her mind, not after what she went through yesterday."

"She might be angry, your highness." The sergeant major said with a thin smile playing over his lips. The silver on his temples shined

"Possibility of finding out everything I've ever worked for has been a lie, alienating the man who made me what I am today, almost certain death, dismemberment and torture?" The sergeant major grinned wickedly. "Sir, if I'm walking into hell, I'd be an honor to be doing it by your side."

"Good man." Jarvan said, shaking his hand. He looked up at the clock upon the wall and frowned slightly. _This isn't about me right now this, this is about Shyvana._ "Alas, our little trip to hell and back with have to wait. It's time to see a dragon about a dance."


	43. Chapter 42: Ball (Part I)

"Presenting the Prince of Demacia, Jarvan Lightshield IV."

There was a polite applause that drifted through the crowds as the prince descended the steps, the sergeant major following in his wake. Dressed in an elaborate, fully armored royal guard uniform complete with helm, sword, cape and all, the sergeant major looked grand on his own. The ball already looked to be a success by the time that Jarvan arrived. Guests mingled left, right and center of the grand entrance hall of the Demacian Palace, many lining the floors and balconies, wandering in and amond the palace. Flanked along either side, Jarvan's forefathers stonily watched the proceedings, standing sentinel to the festivities. The majority of the guests had gravitated towards the center of the hall where a number of champions who served as emissaries to the League of Legends stood and conversed with the members of the Demacian legislative council. Jarvan managed to pick out several her knew personally, and there were several others he didn't recognize, but the crowds of people made it clear they carried the stature.

As Jarvan approached the bottom of the steps, a sense of dread at having to wander through the crowd of well-wishers suddenly struck him. He forced a smile onto his face, bowing his head in thanks to the welcoming applause as he reached the bottom. The sergeant major clanked to a stop behind him and waited silently for the prince's cue. Jarvan looked around, hoping to see a familiar face but as he looked upon the crowds that stood watching, waiting for him to make the first move, Jarvan couldn't help but feel the outcast.

_So this is what Shyvana feels when she moves through the city._ A smiling face appeared from within the crowd, a cane held before the short form as it pushed through the wall of bodies. Jarvan was beckoned by a cherry-cheeked General Lorcan to join the flow of people that gravitated around the representatives of the League and the prince nodded, slowly moving forward.

"Good evening, General." Jarvan said, bowing shallowly. The General bowed much deeper, showing Jarvan more than the respect he was due as Prince, despite being his commanding officer. As he stood up, Jarvan was blasted by the scent of wine and heavy drink, the General's nose and cheeks a merry red color as he giggled to himself, wavering slightly as he leaned heavily on his cane.

"Good evening indeed!" The short general announced boastfully, sloshing a cup of red wine about, though he somehow managed not to spill any of the ruby liquid. "These festivities are always so grand." His voice faded as he tipped the cup back and drowned himself in his vices for several moments. "It's a pity we do not have them more often."

"It has been a long while since I've seen anything as grand as this." Jarvan said, putting on a smile as he nodded his head at several passing women who gave him coquettish looks and batted their eyelashes in his direction. The halls were decked out with brilliant banners of blue and gold, with flowers and streams of liquid gold, enchanted by court sorcerers floating about like fluid banners of Demacian strength. A ribbon of color flashes over the prince's head, twisting and forming into the shape of a solider overhead. It shivered after several seconds, exploding into fireworks above the heads of the guests, applause echoing through the hall before it coiled into a ball and shot away to entertain other guests. "Father is really pulling out all the stops, isn't he?"

"Of course he is!" The general shouted. He looked shocked for a brief moment before his smile settled back on his checks as he guzzled more of the ruby drink he carried in hand. "It's a party for you, prince! So drink, be merry and enjoy yourself!"

Jarvan forced a smile onto his face. "I shall try, general." He stood up straighter, scanning the crowd. "I shall refrain from celebrating too much until I have company with which I can fully share said merry refreshments."

"From your words, I take it your dragon girl will be joining us shortly?" The general said, looking about the prince. "I find it strange that you two are not together at a time like this."

"She shall be arriving soon, I believe." Jarvan affirmed, looking to the sergeant major, who nodded curtly.

"Good, good." Lorcan said, chuckling loudly, his cheeks already red from his copious consumption of the wine. He started to tip his goblet back, but froze mid tip, his eyes settling slightly. "I take it my sword has been serving you well enough?" He lowered his voice slightly, though his smile did not diminish, leaving him with an almost cruel grin upon his face. "I did notice that, my young prince."

"It was merely a confirmation, general." Jarvan said, not letting his smile falter either. "I shall return it soon enough." The general narrowed his eyes, the beady dark orbs dancing over the prince with exacting intensity. Jarvan felt his skin crawl as the general watched him closely, shifting from foot to foot. The general's smile cracked again and he raised his arms over his head.

"Thank you." The general said, laughing again. "But now is not a time for such things! It is a time for jubilation! Come, come let me start introducing you. You've been away for so long..."

"Lead the way." Jarvan said, nodding his head and gesturing for the general to proceed. They moved through the crowd, the general using his cane to shoo people from their path, striking at their ankles at times. He earned disapproving glares, but no one was willing to call the mad general on his behavior when he was decked out in his full uniform. Many looked at the irksome little man with contempt, forced smiled onto their faces and parted for him to pass. Jarvan offer smiles and polite bows of apology as he followed.

"Ah yes... shhh!" Lorcan hushed overtly loudly, earning the glare of several of the other partygoers. Jarvan coughed into his hand and Lorcan looked about, confused, but he did silence himself as he approached a raven haired woman who stood next to a young woman dressed in a pale blue gown, a ribbon of gold floating about her like an ethereal halo. There was a small crowd around them both and soft music came from the strange looking instrument as the younger one's fingers danced upon fine strings. Both had ample chests, but the younger one was ethereal in more than just the size of her bust. She floated just above the ground, the hem of her gown billowing slightly along the stone floor, and her fingers danced delicately over the strings, plucking sweet notes that caressed the ears as they floated gently through the crowd. The raven haired woman sung in a deep voice that complimented the sweet notes, creating a sad but warm song.

_Beyond this place of wrath and tears_

_Looms but the Horror of the shade,_

_And yet the menace of the years_

_Finds and shall find me unafraid._

_It matters not how straight the gate,_

_How charged with punishments the scroll,_

_I am the master of my fate,_

_I am the captain of my soul._

The song slowly faded with a few long, mourning notes that seemed to drag on forever. Silence followed for several long seconds before a burst of applause erupted. Jarvan clapped as the two women bowed politely to the crowd.

"Lestara Buvelle, as always, you and your daughter are a vision for the eyes and a revival to the soul." The general took councilor Buvelle's hand in his and kissed it in an extravagant fashion, the councilor beaming happily as she chuckled.

"Always the charmer, Holven." Lestara Buvelle said, laughing sweetly. "Aside from your wine, how are you doing?"

"Well, my dear, very well." General Lorcan said, smiling as he turned to the councilor's daughter. She floated, bobbing up and down slightly, her long pony tails falling behind her in a swirling mass of hair that glimmered in the light of the chandeliers above. She smiled as the general took her hand and kissed it briefly as well. "Beautiful as always, Mistress Sona." He grinned cheekily. "And the music was gorgeous too."

She nodded her head, smiling prettily, dimpling slightly as she did. She looked to the prince, her mouth opening slightly, her eyes going wide for a second before she blushed and bowed deeply. Jarvan shook his head and beckoned she stand up. She smiled, though after a moment, surprise shown on her face. She reached out and wiped a tear from the prince's cheek.

"Your highness." Lady Buvelle said, surprise on her face for a moment as well. "I didn't realize you were there, excuse me, we didn't mean to cause a disruption with our playing..."

"No, no..." Jarvan said, shaking his head and clearing his throat. "That song..."

"'Twas a folk tale we put to music." Councilor Buvelle said, nodding. "It's not one many know..."

"My company, we used to recite the words to that song when we were waiting upon the lines of battle." Jarvan said softly. "A sergeant taught it to the whole company. I've just never heard such a beautiful rendition of it."

"I apologize if I brought up any bad memories." Lady Buvelle said, offering the prince a pity filled smile. Several notes were plucked and lady Buvelle looked over at her daughter. "I'm sorry, dear, I got caught up talking." She shook her head and gestured to Sona. "I do not know if you recall my daughter, Sona?"

"No need to apologize, councilor." Jarvan said softly, smiling as he looked back to the musician. "And I do remember her, though not well. I just wanted to say that your music was very touching." Jarvan said, bowing his head. "It was an honor, and I would very much like to hear the full song at some point."

"Of course." The councilor looked to her daughter. "We can-..."

"Perhaps when things are not so hectic." Jarvan said, grinning, looking around the ballroom. Sona blushed slightly, ducking her eyes, but she nodded excitedly.

"Of course, your highness." Lady Buvelle said. "It would be an honor to play for royalty."

"I was speaking with Lady Buvelle and Miss Sona here about her service with the Institute not long before you arrived." General Lorcan murmured, inserting himself back into the conversation. "Miss Sona has been very successful there, serving Demacia and making her family proud."

"I heard from Garen that you had joined." Jarvan said, nodding. "How do like it there?"

Sona plucked a number of notes across the instrument, and then looked to her adoptive mother.

"She says that everyone is very nice, and while certain things have proved difficult, she has found it rewarding and challenging." Lestara said, translating for her daughter.

"Being unable to speak does make it difficult to converse and be of use though." The voice was female and very proud. Sona Buvelle only let the frown show for a second before the smile returned to her face as a young woman dressed in a flashy red dress stepped forward, flipping her hair out of her eyes with a toss of the head. A single lock of crimson decorated her brow, matching the color of her dress. "An instrument should be used for entertainment, not diplomacy. A saber though... now there is a tool of true diplomacy when used in the oldest and most renowned form of diplomacy, the duel."

"Young Mistress Laurent." Lorcan said, gesturing to the young woman. She had her black hair cut short, high on her shoulders, her bangs died a bloody red. "Good to see you in high spirits. I assume your father is here?"

"He is, general." Fiora Laurent said, nodding her head and offering the general a quick smile. She glanced at Jarvan briefly, blushed slightly and then glanced away. She stuck her nose out slightly. "Now, as I was saying, the only true tool of diplomacy is the saber. If I was a member of the League of Legends, there would be no need of any of these silly matches, and-..."

"A crude weapon suited only to those who seek to draw attention to themselves, the saber." Another voice announced, stepping into the conversation. This one was more controlled and comfortable amid the surrounding company, almost noble, but it also carried a proud but cool tone. "A tool suited to soldiers and bigots with too little to do but to sit around and play with those over large _toothpicks_. Swords are antiquities of the past that have been supplanted by technology. I suggest you get with the times, little girl."

"And Shauna Vayne, the heir to House Vayne has now joined the fray." Lorcan said, a discerning look upon his face as he looked about the growing crowd. He looked down at his cup and sighed. "I don't have enough wine for this." He looked up to Jarvan. "Please, entertain them while I go and fetch more. I'll be right back." Lorcan barely gave Jarvan the time to open his mouth, much less protest before he had spirited himself away as the focus shifted towards the newcomer.

"You use a bow and arrow you old hag!" Fiora spat at the newcomer. Vayne grinned, sweeping her ponytail over her shoulder, the slinky deep aqua dress she wore shimmering in the light. "How is that 'technology'?"

"Compared to that ancient art you call 'fencing', my crossbow is the very essence of technology!" Vayne said with a smile, watching as her younger opponent's face turned red with embarrassment and anger. She turned to the prince and bowed her head polietly. "I apologize for the young woman's tone, your highness, I don't think she understands exactly who she stands before. Fiora, you do realize that you're insulting the prince's honor by interrupting his conversation, correct?"

"W-what?" Fiora stammered, looking astonished. "What would you know of honor? You creep amid the shadows playing the part of a hero in tights! How is that honorable?"

"Just because I do not practice honor towards those I hunt, does not I do not understand honor." Vayne said, shrugging slightly, her milky white skin gleaming in the chandelier light. "However, you could learn a thing or two. As a fellow daughter of a noble house, you shame your father and your family name."

"But... but..." Fiora grumbled under her breath and turned to the prince. She bowed deeply at the west, blushing in embarrassment. "I apologize, your highness. I mean you no disservice."

"It's quiet alright." Jarvan said with a thin grin. "It's quite entertaining, you views of duels and fighting nearly parallel my own, so I understand the frustration." Fiora stood up, her eyes wide.

"Perhaps you would like to duel?" Fiora said, excitedly. "I have heard of your prowess and I would certainly love to—OW!" She squeak and rubbed her tail, looking back to where Vayne was standing with a small hors d'oeuvres skewer, twirling like it was a small dagger. "What was that for!?"

"This is a ball in the prince's honor." Vayne said, scolding the young woman. "You continue to insult him with your boorish obsession with fighting. Perhaps if you had an actual purpose it might be relevant, but I suppose something that _complex_ evades your obsession with poking people with sharpened sticks." Vayne boasted, laughing haughtily as she turned, waving a hand as she spun away. "A weapon such as that is just silly." Vayne disappeared into the crowd, leaving a wake in the massed as she danced through the other party goers.

"Come back here and say that to my face!" Fiora shouted, stomping off behind the raven-haired master of House Vayne.

"And so they came and so they went…" Lady Buvelle said, sighing as she shook her head. "Apologies for that… outburst, your highness, the young duelist, Fiora Laurent, desires to prove her mettle amid the champions of the League. As for Mistress Vayne, I do believe you owe her some thanks for drawing away the rambunctious young Mistress Laurent." Lady Buvelle laughed lightly and shook her head.

"I'll see that I express my thanks, given the chance." Jarvan said, shaking his head, still watching the wake of disturbed party goers that followed the path that Vayne had seemingly fled along. "Had they not appeared so quickly and disappeared again…"

"That tends to happen." Lady Buvelle said, nodding. "Those two do not exactly see eye to eye."

"Jarvan!" Garen moved through the crowd, dressed in a uniform similar to the prince, though he lacked the crown and some of the more fanciful decorations. He moved closer and then saluted his friend, holding it until Jarvan nodded his head to dismiss the man's attention. "It's good to see you." Garen said, grinning, looking the prince up and down. "You always did look good in a uniform. Lady Buvelle, Sona." Garen bowed ceremoniously, both of the women nodding their heads and smiling in acknowledgment.

Jarvan scowled, waving the knight off. "Yeah, yeah." Jarvan grumbled, but Garen's infectious smile spread to Jarvan. "How have you been, Garen, how goes things in Kalamanda?" The massive knight stood broader than the prince, but also several inches shorter. His demeanor turned sour, his brow darkening and creasing with frustration.

"Tense, but there haven't been any major developments in the past few weeks." Garen said, frowning. "I've been working with Katarina Du Couteau to maintain the peace while we try to rescue the miners who are still trapped underground." Garen's frown grew slightly at his lack of good news.

"How long have they been down there?" Lady Buvelle said, frowning. "Surely they would have run out of food and supplies by now..."

"We've been able to get to where the cave-in has happened from several areas using the network of underground tunnels." Garen said nodding. "However, the cave-in that has trapped them also loosened too much of the ground to try and do any digging, and while we've made attempts to rescue the men, we've had to abort all attempts up till now due to the instability of it all. The work is proceeding frustratingly slow, but the maps of the mines we have indicate that the miners were trapped within an intermediary supply dump that was used for transferring mined crystal and material into carts to be moved out of the mine. They have access to food and water, and while it isn't much, the only thing we've been able to really get done is establish communications and clear the ventilation shafts."

"It seems like you've made a lot of progress." Lady Buvelle said, offering an encouraging smile. Several notes were plunked out from Sona's instrument, the young woman smiling happily at Garen. "And Sona says you're doing a good job leading the rescue efforts." The knight put on a smile and nodded his head in thanks of the encouragement, but it didn't serve to brighten his demeanor.

"I thank you for your kind words, but I still wish I had something more to show for it." Garen said, shaking his head and shrugging. "But I've droned on long enough." A smile started to spread over his face as he looked at Jarvan. "What's this I've been hearing about the duel between Shyvana and Xin Zhao?" Garen said, grinning curiously. "I heard about the shouting match you had even all the way in Kalamanda."

Jarvan sighed, letting his shoulders slump as he shook his head. "I suppose you could say I was fed up with father stone walling me." Jarvan said with a frown. He started to blush slightly, but shook it off. "The final straw was when he told me I was engaged to someone I had never even met. I was having none of it, and now there is a duel tomorrow to determine if I get my way or not." Jarvan shook his head. "It's a petty matter, really, but I accepted his terms."

"Huh." Garen said, frowning slightly and then shrugging. "That's not what I heard by way of rumor, but I suppose that makes more sense. It will be interesting to see if my own loss was just a fluke or if your girlfriend actually has some skill."

"Do I even want to ask?" Jarvan said, rolling his eyes. The knight chuckled.

"From what I heard, you got into a shouting match with the king and queen in front of the entirety of the high command staff, you took down a corrupt general by yourself, and now you're trying to turn a commoner, and a foreigner for that manner, into a princess." Garen grinned thinly. "I heard that she charged the king and demanded to fight to earn her chance at the position of your _personal _bodyguard, among other things, while badly injured. I remember how she got the best of me, but I heard the Seneschel whooped her."

"I didn't want to ask, but I was curious myself." Lady Buvelle said, laughing lightly, breaking into a smile. "I thought the rumors seemed a bit wild, but if I am not the only one who has heard them..."

Jarvan sighed. "Most of it's true, yes, she lost, but it's not over yet." He shrugged at the look of disbelief on the captain's face. "Though I don't know what happened to the general. That wasn't solely my doing."

"I see." Garen said, blinking as he stood up straighter, reconsidering.

"And where is the young woman, anyways? I've heard much about her, but I have never had the chance to meet her." Lady Buvelle smiled excitedly, scanning the crowd as if Jarvan was hiding his companion somewhere within.

"I'm not sure, to be honest, ma'am." Jarvan said, frowning slightly. "When I went to fetch her before, I was shooed away by several friends, my maid _and_ my mother." Jarvan shrugged with some effort in the ceremonial armor as Lady Buvelle laughed lightly and a broad smile filled Sona's cheeks. The younger Buvelle played several notes across her instrument and Lady Buvelle nodded, grinning.

"Sona says that if that is the case, then you should relish the wait, not worry." A few more notes played out and Lady Buvelle nodded thoughtfully. "I'm more than certain it will be well worth the wait, your highness. Speaking of..."

Jarvan looked to the stairs that lead into the main hall, a large smile settling on his face.

"Announcing Jarvan Lightshield III and Lady Catherine Lightshield, King and Queen of Demacia!" The ballroom echoed with applause, the cheers carrying through the hall as the king stood atop the steps, bowing to the gathered crowd. The queen curtsied as well, her magnificent white and gold gown gleaming in the light. It was opulent, the fine ruffled white of the gown trimmed with gold that glimmered as she started down the steps. Fur dressed a light overcloak that rested on her shoulders. It had a high neckline that accented her collar, and the thin waist was accented by the way her hair billowed around her in an almost ethereal fashion. She beamed, her cheeks rosy and pink as she stared out over the hall. She looked about, her grey eyes searching the crowd. The king wore a similar, heavy overcoat over ceremonial armor similar to the prince's, though his was much finer in craft and more ornate in its decoration and dress. He wore a pale blue, high collared sleeveless robe over a fine linen shirt, with mail that ran down his arms to his elbows and fell low over his thighs. He wore decorative pauldrons and a metal cuirass decorated with the Demacian crest emblazoned across his chest in gold. He wore matching vambraces and rerebraces that lined his arms. Even his grieves and sabatons were decorated in fine styling with immaculate gem work that glimmered in the light. A fur collar and cloak was held by a golden chain that ran across his neck, and similarly decorated skirt ran around his waist, covered by tassets that gleamed like the rest of his armor. The king smiled proudly as he looked out over the crowd, his eyes searching.

"The king and queen look grand this evening." Lady Buvelle said softly, leaning slightly towards Jarvan. "They seem happier as well, despite the mood of the last few weeks."

Jarvan put on a smile as his parent's eyes fell upon him, the queen's smile growing as she beamed, and the king let a thin grin play under his beard as his clear blue eyes glimmered beneath the brow of his crown. "I don't think I can ever remember a ceremony nearly as grand as this." Jarvan spoke towards the councilor. She nodded slightly.

"They're celebrating for you, your highness." She took a step back and smiled as the king and queen approach, bowing low. The rest of the crowd followed suit as the King and Queen, hand in hand, moved slowly through crowd towards the prince. Jarvan started to bow, but the king raised a hand to forestall.

"I wish to formally welcome you home, my son." The king said, setting a hand upon the prince's shoulder. A tear ran down the queen's cheek as she continued beaming, her bottom lip quivering slightly as she looked upon her son with proud, teary eyes. "It is an honor to have you once again moving about these halls, and I wanted to wish you all the best of luck with our deployment this coming week."

"Thank you, father." Jarvan said firmly, stiffly. He bowed deeply, holding it for several long second before he stood up. "It is an honor to be amid such... _company_ once again." Jarvand forced a smile onto his face as he looked around at the councilors, royalty, and officers that surrounded him now. "In my time away from Demacia, I came to appreciate what I had lost and now that I've returned, it's easy to realize what I've been away from for so long. So thank you, one and all for the wonderful celebration."

A polite applause echoed through the hall as gazes started to turn towards the stairwell that led into the room. The king stepped up towards the prince and patted the prince on the shoulder, grinning politely, though there was menace in his eyes. "A fine speech, my son." The king squeezed his should slightly, leaning in. "They may not be able to detect when you're being sarcastic, but I can." Electricity ran through Jarvan's body, the burn of his father's eyes judging him causing his skin to crawl. The king stood up straight, clapping him on the shoulder and grinning, though the warmth had faded from his eyes.

"Father..." Jarvan said softly, though his expression remained impassible, the king frowned slightly.

"If they believe your sincerity, I have nothing to worry about." The king bowed his head slightly, but sighed. "Just ensure that you never let your sincerity towards Demacia and her people waver. "Besides, it appears the other main attraction of the evening has arrived."

"Announcing Alicia Juniper and her escort, Lieutenant Proudmast Vorscham of the Royal Guard." The announcement came echoing through the hall. A grin grew across Jarvan's face as he turned to the stairs. "Alicia and Vorscham?"

"About damn time." The sergeant major grunted. Jarvan turned and watched him for a brief moment as he started to clap, giving the sergeant major a look that he hoped spoke of his amazement at the comment. The sergeant major grunted, raising his nose into the air just a tad as he looked away. "I don't exactly enjoy dealing with the diplomats, either sir. Bunch of gasbags if you ask me."

"Careful what you say, Sergeant Major." Jarvan chuckled softly, watching as Alicia and Vorscham descended the stairs. "They may be full of hot air, yes, but they also have enough sway to get you sacked, regardless."

"Bunch of pansies." The sergeant major grunted, but he shut his mouth, returning his attention to the crowd around the prince, returning to his job. "If they have a problem, they better say it to my face."

Vorscham and Alicia descended the steps formally, the lieutenant keeping a hand out horizontally at the elbow with his palm up, Alicia's hand palm down atop his, with her forearm resting upon his. Vorscham looked the part as lieutenant, wearing a royal guard's ceremonial uniform, though his left shoulder was decorated with a golden aiguillette, braided in a circular pattern that ran under his arm. He also lacked the helmet and though his long hair and beard had been well groomed, they didn't hide much of the scarring on the right side of his face. Alicia, blushing up a storm, also looked the part. Her dress was cut in vaguely military lines, a dark blue that matched Vorscham's dress uniform, though it lacked the insignia and the armor plates. She did wear a ceremonial sword, and along the lower right of her torso, the Demacian emblem had been stitched out in shimmering dark blue fabric that flashed the insignia with every step she took. Her snowy white hair had been braided into a single thick cord that fell to midway along her back. She looked as if she were struggling not to break into a massive smile.

_"...but with those scars though?"_ Jarvan caught the hint of a whisper from somewhere behind him and he frowned, turning just enough so he could hear the voice better. "_They're a true trophy of battle."_

"_Aye, but they're so... hideous_." The second voice, deep but posh, sneered. "_He's missing an ear, for god's sake..."_

Jarvan turned and frowned, looking who the voice was coming from.

"They're scars from a training incident." Jarvan snarled menacingly, shutting up Councilor Yankov's red-faced drunkenness. The broad chested man sucked in his gut, straining the buttons on his fanciful coat, frowning at the prince, his face turning an even deeper red. "Perhaps you should show a bit more respect, councilor. He trains most of the guards who keep you and your profits safe."

"Oh course, your highness." Yankov slurred, bowing slightly, his grey hair shivering as he exhaled a bit too sharply. Jarvan frowned, the disdain evident in the councilor's voice but Jarvan ignored it, turning away. _"I still find it utterly unsightly."_ Jarvan rolled his eyes at the whisper and forced himself to step away, towards where Vorscham and Alicia were being swamped with well-wishers and congratulatory councilors, many of them predatorily closing around Alicia, the intent of having a Demacian hero in their pocket obvious to all of those watching. Jarvan moved smoothly through the crowd and grinned as he emerged facing them both, forcing his grin to return to his face. Vorscham's face was a hardened mask as he shut down under the attention, a tempered reflex from years of dressing downs from officers. Alicia though was busy shaking hands and accepting praise, her smile both nervous and happy at the same time, her pale cheeks flushed with excitement.

"Prince Jarvan." Vorscham said gruffly, acknowledging Jarvan's arrival. Alicia and Vorscham bowed a bit and then stood tall, both of them looking at Jarvan.

"Alicia, Proudmast." Jarvan said, still struggling not to grin too wide. "What a pleasant surprise to see you two here _together._" He put a bit of an accent on the last word, ensuring they both caught the meaning of his words. Vorscham's face was impassible, but Alicia blushed a bit deeper in color and snuck a quick look at Vorscham.

"Thank you, sir." Vorscham said stiffly, the sound of his voice stony and emotionless. Alicia was much more gracious though. She beamed, showing off pearly white teeth.

"Thanks!" She said excitedly. "I'm excited to say the least." She said, looking around anxiously. She turned and looked about as others continued to congratulate her on the award she had yet to receive, and it was obvious from her embarrassed and excited expression that she hadn't been expecting it.

"I can tell." Jarvan said, grinning. He started to look back over his shoulder towards the stairs, but only the idle chatter of the other partygoers and the subtle music that floated through the hall could be heard. Jarvan shifted from foot to foot, looking around the room nervously. He tugged his jacket flat across his chest.

"She'll be here soon." Alicia said, wearing a pixie grin as she patted Jarvan on an armored vambrace. Jarvan looked surprised for a moment but when he realized what she meant he grinned and blushed. "You look like you're about to get married, Jarvan. Calm down, your highness, it's just a party..."

"Yes, well..." Jarvan looked around apprehensively, forcing himself to take a deep breath. "I'm alright."

Vorscham glared at the prince for a brief moment. "No you're not." Vorscham grunted. "I don't think I've ever seen you this excited before. It's just a bloody party."

"Call it what you want, but it's also Shyvana first official foray into the public eye." Jarvan said, straightening his tunic beneath his armor again. He met Vorscham's gaze evenly. "All the public have to go on are rumors and hearsay, and I want to correct that, starting with this evening." Jarvan frowning, looking around. Gazes were already being drawn towards the Lieutenant, and Jarvan could hear the subtle tones of whispers carrying through the room. "Many of the guests already seem… _tense_ this evening. I don't like the atmosphere. I don't wish for her image to degrade any further."

"To that of a feral beast, you mean?" The king said idly as he approached the small group that had slowly drawn away the main crowd. The lack of malcontent in his voice kept the remark from being a stinging jab. "I've heard some of the rumors resulting from yesterday. The soldiers both fear and respect her power, which may come as a great asset or may prove to be her bane." The king shrugged, a grin fluttering over his face. "The rumors among the city are even more fanciful."

"She doesn't know what to make of it though." Alicia said softly. "She's conflicted, torn between so many different feelings and alliances that I doubt she's ever had to experience before."

"She thinks very highly of you, Miss Juniper." The queen said with a smile. "She spoke of you often when I was tutoring her in etiquette."

"I wanted to thank you for that." Jarvan said nodding slowly, looking to his snow-haired friend. "I don't think Shyvana would have ever had such an easy time if it weren't for you. If you ever need anything, please, just ask."

"I thought I told you to calm down, prince." Alicia said, grinning. "You're starting to make wild promises, Jarvan. Stop before you say something you regret, though… Having a prince in my debt is definitely something I'll remember." Alicia said chuckling lightly, the other joining in the conversation. Other partygoers had dispersed as the last came and went, extending their gratitude and thanks to the king and queen before returning to their cliques that were now starting for form around the room. Merchants had slowly moved towards the food while officers had moved towards the throne that had been set up opposite the main stairwell.

"It's about time, Trey." The queen said softly, leaning in towards the king. He glanced up towards the steps and nodded. She smiled at the prince, winking and grinning from ear to ear. "Do try and keep your jaw off the floor, Jarvan."

The prince nodded absent mindlessly, turning and looking to the top of the steps.

Shyvana stood at the top of the steps.


	44. Chapter 43: Ball (Part II)

Shyvana stood looking out over the crowd, blushing furiously. She wore a dress of pale, bluish-silver over which light slivered. A band of gold ran high along her chest, wrapping across both shoulders, holding up a set of sleeves made of a thin, wispy material that fell to mid-thigh, hiding her arms. The dress had a high waistline and a narrow skirt that fell to the floor, accenting her long legs. Down the center of the form of her dress, a paler stripe decorated with Demacian motifs ran along her front, all the way to the floor. Her dress glimmered as she nervously looked around. She held her hands before her, fiddling with the tall white gloves that ran to her elbow. A sash of Demacian blue with a pale yellow stripe that ran along the center, running over her chest from her right shoulder, a Black Demacian emblem embroidered opposite her heart. Shyvana herself looked grand, the light blush she wore barely serving to downplay how furious a red the dragoness's cheeks were. Her pale skin had a rose shade to it as she looked around. Her red hair had been pulled back into a thick but elegant braid that she had tugged over her shoulder, letting in run down next to her chest. Only a few bangs had escaped, though they dance playfully atop her head.

"Announcing Shyvana von Faust, escorted by Sergeant Vivian Delancey." Shyvana started down the stairs as Delancey stepped forward and nodded her head discretely. Shyvana moved slowly, as gracefully as she could down the steps, only teetering once, stepping down upon the floor and among the other party goers at last. She continued to blush, looking around, unsure how to react to the silence of the crowd.

Jarvan stared at the dragoness, Shyvana finally catching his gaze and blushing an even more furious red as she ducked her head, smiling nervously. A clap started slowly, and though Jarvan couldn't see where the clapping had started, he could have sworn it had come from the throne at the opposite end of the room. The clapping spread and swelled as Shyvana slowly started down the massive red carpet that led towards the throne.

"She's quite gorgeous." Lady Buvelle said softly as she stepped forward, next to the prince, a thin smile playing over her face.

"Yeah..." Jarvan grunted, realizing he hadn't be breathing, his breath caught in his throat. "I... wow..." The prince whispered under his breath. Shyvana moved closer and closer, pausing next to Jarvan, meeting his gaze for a brief moment with large magenta eyes before blushing and ducking her head.

"Good evening, your highness." Shyvana said timidly, bowing at the waist curtsying as she did.

"Hello, love." Jarvan said softly, stepping forward onto the carpet, extending an arm. He looked to Delancey, the sergeant grinning crookedly as she bowed and stepped back. "May I relieve you of your charge, sergeant?"

"Of course, sir." Delancey said, snapping off a salute. She fell back behind Shyvana and the prince, the couple turning and looking to Alicia and Proudmast. Jarvan grinned at the gunny, and waved her forward.

"You look beautiful this evening, Shy." Jarvan whispered, leaning in slightly towards the dragoness.

"Come on, June." Shyvana said softly, blushing furiously as she looked away from Jarvan, the gunny's cheeks turning red. She glanced around when eyes slowly started to turn on her before she scowled and let herself be led forward by the increasingly stiff Vorscham. The lieutenant seemed to be completely shutting down as the attention again turned to him. His mouth was a barely visible thin line as he took his position on the far left of the now formed procession, Alicia next to Jarvan and Shyvana on the far right. Delancey and the sergeant major had fallen in behind as ceremonial guard.

The six of them slowly approached the throne where King Jarvan III and Lady Catherine stood regally, looking out over the crowd as silence descended upon the ballroom. The procession stopped a handful of steps from the base of the stairs that lead up to the rise of the throne. Jarvan and Vorscham helped their escorts down to kneel, each of the four bowing their heads to the king.

"Alicia Juniper, Shyvana von Faust, please rise and step forth." The king said officiously. Shyvana looked at the prince, and Jarvan nodded, giving her a proud smile. Shyvana smiled as she rose to her feet, glancing at Alicia as they stepped forward together, to the bottom of the steps. "Alicia Juniper, in honor of your bravery and service, you have been awarded with the Demacian Distinguished Service Star of Gallantry."

Colonel Kranoff Dillich stepped forward, opening a medium sized wooden box and presenting it towards the king. Jarvan III nodded his thanks and removed one of two medals from within. "It is my honor to bestow this award upon you, Gunnery Sergeant Alicia Juniper. Your steadfast loyalty to your friends and your nation are reflected in this award, and your dedication and vigor toward your duty are both evident to all of those around you." The king lowered the ribbon over her head, the Demacian blue glimmering against her china-pale skin. The medal itself was a bar shaped cross with a Demacian Eagle upon the center, a scroll beneath it bearing the inscription 'For Gallantry'. On the reverse side, the center of the cross was circled by a crown of laurel where the name 'Alicia Juniper' had been inscribed. He ensured it was seated properly and stepped backwards and examined his work before raising his hands and beginning a slow clap. The crowd joined in the polite applause, letting it carry for a while and then slowly dying. Colonel Dillich gestured for the gunnery sergeant to step back and to the side. The king looked into the box again and took a deep breath, looking at the award. He looked up to the room around him before clearing his throat.

"Nearly three weeks ago, this person put the safety of someone before her own in a gallant display of bravery rarely seen in this day and age." The king looked around the crowd again. Jarvan felt a shiver go up Shyvana's arm and he gave it a comforting squeeze. "At great risk to herself, she threw herself into a dangerous situation that could have very well cost her life to save the life of another, someone she had never met before. This display of chivalrous gallantry is that of a true Demacian. This display of inner strength and courage is the single greatest example of our moral code that every Demacian is expected to live up to, but rarely are given the ability to demonstrate. , but rarely is anyone able to say that they've seen the worst the world has had to offer and been able to say that they had the courage to stand up to it and care for their fellow man. It is under these ideals that Demacia was founded, using the sanctity of the nation and her goal of remaining pure and true as a basis that it is my honor to present this award." The king let his words sink in among the crowd.

"Every Demacian is asked to uphold our moral code, never offering excuses, backing from a challenge or fleeing in the face of danger." The king offered a triumphant smile to the collected crowd. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Every Demacian knows that Death is inevitable, one can only avoid defeat. However, those of us who rise from the very lowest upon these principles can achieve greatness. It is my _privilege_ to offer Demacia's highest award during peace times for their gallantry and service. Shyvana von Faust, please step forward."

Shyvana blushed, ducking her head. Jarvan grinned, leading Shyvana towards the steps, leading her by the hand. He gestured for her to mount the steps, and Shyvana looked up at him and blushed softly. Jarvan nodded and she took a step forward, up to the top of the steps. She kneeled, ducking her

"Allow me to thank you for your service and strength in this crisis. Please rise." The king announced. Shyvana stood, still blushing furiously as she lifted her head. "It is my great honor to bestow upon you the Demacian Distinguished Service Star of Gallantry." The king accepted the medal from Colonel Dillich, the cross dangling from the Demacian blue ribbon. The king lowered it over her bowed head, letting it settle over her collar.

He took a step back and started clapping letting it swell and rise through the room. Shyvana looked back over her shoulder and blushed, watching as Jarvan beamed and clapped loudest of all.

"You are also now granted the right to wear Second Class Gallantry Stripes in addition to traditional Demacian Wound stripes." The king smiled, letting the crowd settle. "Now, it is my honor to introduce a representative of the Piltovan Constabulary, here to present an award for your rescue of one of Piltover's finest minds. I present Sheriff Caitlyn of the Piltovan Constabulary."

The woman bowed her head in thanks and she and he assistant stepped from the crowd. She mounted the steps in a fine purple gown, a silver cog, her sheriff's badge, gleaming upon her chest. She bowed before the king and shook his hand briefly, the king gesturing to Shyvana as he stepped back and took his place on his throne. The sheriff had long chestnut hair and dark brown eyes, a slim face and a smile that accentuated her ravishing beauty. A ripple of applause passed through the crowd as she cleared her throat.

"It is rare that I am given the privilege of presenting Piltover's highest badge of honor, and it is even rarer that I am given the honor of presenting it to someone who is not a denizen of Piltover." She paused and smiled as she looked over the crowd. "However, it is rarest of all to have a citizen of any city-state put their own life on the line and their safety aside for the life of that another, especially in these dark times that have befallen Runeterra. It is with this strength and theis conviction towards the preservation of life and Piltovan society that I am honored to be granted the right to bestow this award upon a hero in the eyes of both Piltover and Demacia." Caitlyn's assistant, a young woman with pink hair shorn short on one side stepped forward, presenting a box dressed with cogs and metal sheeting. Sheriff Caitlyn opened the box and removed a medallion, half shaped of a cog and half shaped of a laurel. A single smaller, four toothed cog was imposed over it with a scroll beneath it with the word 'Valor' inscribed on it. "Please come forth, warrior of Demacia."

Shyvana smiled as she stepped forward, letting the sherriff lower the medal over her head to lay next to the Demacian cross. The Sherriff took Shyvana's forearm in hand and patted it firmly, offering her a reassuring smile. "Thank you."

Shyvana nodded and turned to face the crowd, Prince Jarvan starting to clap. The roar of the crowd grew this time.

Shyvana beamed.

"Now!" The king bellowed through the hall, silencing the crowd. "With these honors now bestowed upon these two examples of Demacian greatness, let us enjoy this holiday! Eat and make merry, for tomorrow this Demacian fights for the honor of her prince!" The crowd cheered and clapped, the din of conversation and the buzz of excitement befalling the crowd again as the party goers returned to their food and drink as servants swept through carried trays laden with champagne and other drink.

The king waved a servant over, gesturing to the tray of drinks, handing one to his wife first, the sheriff next, and then Shyvana and Alicia as their escorts both returned to their sides. Shyvana grinned happily as Jarvan gave her a congratulatory hug, letting an arm rest across her waist as the king gave him a curious glance, but there was no reprisal as Shyvana held onto part of his tunic with one hand and her drink with the other. She hung on him slightly, struggling to keep her footing.

"Tired already?" Jarvan said with a grin.

"All this excitement..." Shyvana shook her head as she blushed again and tossed back her drink, taking a deep breath as she did. "It's a bit more than I can handle."

"You may wish to get used to it." The king said neutrally. Shyvana blinked once as she processed the words and then she blushed furiously, her face a similar shade of red to that of her hair. The king grinned at her surprise. "Attention will be on you when we leave for Kalamanda, and whether you're serving under my son or not, I want your strength with us when we depart for Kalamanda."

Shyvana blushed and nodded vacantly. Jarvan grinned, stroking her hair slightly, wiping a lock of stray hair from her face. "Thank you sir." She slumped slightly against Jarvan as the others laughed.

"Sheriff Caitlyn, I wanted to thank you for attending." The king said, waving the sheriff over. "I do believe you've met before, though I do not think you've ever been officially introduced." The king gestured Shyvana forward towards the Sheriff. "Sheriff Caitlyn of Piltover, it is my pleasure to introduce Shyvana von Faust, a consort of my son."

"I remember the stunning demonstration you gave for the king, the Ionian diplomat and I several months ago." Caitlyn said with a smile. "And Prince Jarvan as well, I do believe this is the first time we've met." Jarvan bowed his head and smiled, shaking her hand briskly.

"Professor Heimerdinger wished for me to convey his gratitude in his absence."

Shyvana's face lit up as she smiled. "Where is Cecil—I mean the professor? I haven't seen him since."

"Back in his workshop." Caitlyn said, chuckling softly. "Speaking of, I hate to have to leave early, but duty calls." She crossed a hand over her chest and bowed her head. "If you'll excuse me?"

"It is always a joy to share in such honors and accolades, Madame Sheriff." The king said, moving through the crowd. "To promote such strength within our two city-states, it is always a pleasure."

"Of course, your highness." Caitlyn said nodding slowly. "It is a pleasure to see you again as well, Miss Shyvana." Caitlyn said, smiling at the dragoness as Shyvana smiled and nodded.

"I would like to speak with your for a few moments, Sheriff." The king said, gesturing towards the door. "Would you walk with me?"

"Of course, your highness." The Sheriff said, nodding her head to the others in the immediate crowd and following after him. Jarvan accepted a refill for his drink as a servant passed, Shyvana declining the offer.

"I have to ask, your highness..." Lady Buvelle said, watching the happy couple with an easy smile. "For much of your time away from the city you were known as a Dragon Slayer." The councilor cast a curious gaze to Shyvana. "Though we heard little of you and your men, traders and travelers would bring stories of your exploits back to us, here in Demacia. I hope you don't mind my asking, but how is it that you two came to be together?"

"It's easy to see, isn't it?" Councilor Yankov grumbled beneath is breath, taking a pull from his cup, sloshing a bit of red wine down his chin. He stopped as he looked over at Shyvana, sneering as he did. "Just look at her..." The Councilor had been moving through the crowd, and though he had kept his tongue in check till now, his obvious disdain towards the prince and Shyvana managed to break his silence.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Jarvan growled, turning on the councilor. The man sneered as he held out his cup towards the servant who had filled the prince's cup, but in his drunken state the man ended up striking the young server. The woman squealed and dropped the crystal pitcher, sending a wave of red wine crashing over the councilor's boots.

"I'm so sorry, sir!" The young woman stammered, holding her hands close to her body.

Councilor Yankov snarled, rearing a hand back as he turned on her. "Stupid bitc-..."

"That is _enough, _Coucilor!" Jarvan grabbed the man's wrist as he started to swing. "This behavior is not becoming of a Councilor of Demacia. Especially one with such a _storied_ history as you." Jarvan hissed. Servants rushed to try and clean up and control the mess, but they stopped, watching the prince stare down the blustering, drunken councilman.

"Who are you to lecture me on the like of becoming behavior?" Yankov spluttered angrily, his face turning red as he ripped his hand free of the prince's iron grasp. "You disgraced your family and Demacia brought your own personally _slut_ into the castle and now you're trying to get her a position as your personal bodyguard!? She's not even Demacian! She's hardly a soldier!" The general spat on the floor at Shyvana's feet. "Bodyguard? More like your own personal bed warmer!"

"Listen here you fat, foppish, corrupt, motherfucker..." Jarvan snarled, but Shyvana looked up to him as the prince slammed his jaw shut. She met his gaze, though the intensity in her eyes cause his snarl to turn into a low rumble that fizzled out deep in his throat. Jarvan grunted and simply nodded after a brief moment. He took a deep breath, stepping backwards and crossing his arms over his chest, still glaring down at the councilor.

Shyvana took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a brief moment before she opened them again, exhaling hard, steam jetting from her nostrils. The general had taken a half step back. "You expect eyes of gold and skin of blue?" Shyvana offered him a thin smile that belied the angry tone of her voice. "I could show you that side of my temper if you wish, but I would prefer not in present company." Shyvana bowed her head in the queen's direction. Jarvan watching his mother crack a broad smile, raising a hand to try and smother the expression. The king's face remained impassibly stern, though Jarvan would have sworn he saw his father's eyes sparkle. "There is a darker, angrier side to me, it is true, but I am not an unkempt beast. It gives me strength, and with that strength, I shall prove that I have earned my position!"

"You killed four men!" An officer growled from behind. He leaned on a cane as he stepped forward and glared at her through glimmering spectacles, stepping up beside the drunken councilor. "Tell me how that is earning your position! Tell me how that does not make you an 'unkempt beast'!"

Whispers and angry tones began to surface through the group that had formed around the two medal recipients and the prince.

"Well I..." Shyvana's voice faltered, and her shoulders sank as she stepped back, away from the angry voices. "I..."

"You're not a hero!" A voice yelled from the back of the crowd. "You're a gods-damned demon!"

"Fury and Holtz were friends!" Another officer growled from within the crowd.

"Murderer!" Someone bellowed.

"How does it feel to be the biggest threat to all of Demacia!" A guard jeered.

"Silence!" Jarvan bellowed, his face now starting to contort to anger and impatience. He took a deep breath and let it subside.

"What, are you going to try and suppress our very opinions?" The Councilor spat. "Or maybe you're going to have your dog beat it out of us?" He laughed haughtily. "You can't touch me, _boy_, as a councilman, I control your very future!"

Jarvan growled, his fists tightening. "Maybe I... should..."

The ocean of spilled wine underfoot rippled gently. Jarvan felt his hair rustle, heat beginning to grow around him. He looked to his side and his throat went dry.

"Shyvana..." Jarvan said, starting to reach towards her, but she recoiled from his touch, a small burst of flames jumping up at him. The prince hissed, taking a step back. Shyvana's eyes went wide as she looked at the claws her fingers had formed into, blue scales reaching up her arms, flames dripping from her hands like molten lava. Shyvana looked down to her hands and then back up at Jarvan. The golden diamonds had dulled, fear now thick in her eyes. She looked back to the blackened palms of her tattered gloves, her hands quivering as she pulled back from the prince. She looked up at him, shivering.

"Jarvan..." Shyvana looked up at him, her eyes becoming glassy. "Jarvan, I'm sorry."

She turned and ran, tripping and landing on her hands and knees.

"Shy..." Jarvan said softly, his voice catching in his throat. Jarvan turned on the general, his blue eyes turning to a dark thunderous blue. "Apologize, _now_." His voice rumbled like thunder, his eyes sparkling dangerously, like lightning was dancing through his body.

"I do not apologize to _commoners._" The councilor growled as menacingly as possible, though the drunken slur ended up sounding of a gurgle. "She's not even Demacian!" Yankov looked at her with disdain in his eyes. He sneered, turning back to the prince. "She's nothing but a pet. A dog." The general started to turn away, staggering, but he froze, watching as Shyvana got to her feet. She struggled, nearly toppling as she did, but she turned, blue scales starting to spread along her cheeks. The councilor gasped as brilliant golden eyes shimmered back at him. "Beast!"

Shyvana started to growl, clenching her fists.

"Shyvana..." Delancey said softly, taking a step back as wind and heat began to swirl around them again, lifting Shyvana's hair off her shoulder and whipping it about. Shyvana cast her a fury filled glare at Delancey for only a brief moment as the sergeant shrunk back in surprise. The sound of her linen gloves ripping apart could be heard over the storm. Blue scales crept along Shyvana's cheeks, and golden flecks glimmered in her eyes. Darkness crept through her hair, like ink spreading from her head. The sound of ripping fabric echoed through the dead silence as the whistle of wind and the stench of boiling wine filled the air. Steam boiled around Shyvana and fire danced menacingly around her hands. Shyvana raised her eyes to stare at the councilor, and he stumbled backwards, crashing down to the ground, his mouth hanging open in awe. Brilliant orange diamonds glared back at him.

"Shyvana!" Jarvan shouted, grabbing her shoulders and spinning her about, holding her close for a brief few seconds. The heat and the wind died down around her as Jarvan dropped to a knee next to her, looking to comfort her, but he hesitating, his hands held just away from her shoulders. "Shyvana, calm yourself. He's not worth it..."

Shyvana's eyes went wide as she looked at the claws her fingers had formed into, blue scales reaching up her arms, flames dripping from her hands like molten lava. Shyvana looked down to her hands and then back up at Jarvan. The golden diamonds had dulled, fear now thick in her eyes. She looked back to the blackened palms of her tattered gloves, her hands quivering as she pulled back from the prince. She looked up at him, shivering.

Shyvana's eyes teared up as she looked down at her hands and the ripped fingers of her gloves. She shook her head, looking up at Jarvan wordlessly. "I... I..." Shyvana pulled away from Jarvan shrugging his hands off as she held her hands up between herself and Jarvan backing several steps away from the prince. "What... what have I done..." Her voice was barely a whisper as she looked up at Jarvan. Her eyes started to cloud over as the magenta orbs swirled brightly. She shook her head, struggling to hold the tears back. Shyvana turned as her heel caught on the hem of her dress, sending her crashing to the ground.

"Shyvana!" Jarvan started forward but she raised a hand as she shook her head, her shoulders trembling slightly. She kicked off the heels and got to her feet, heading for a balcony doorway, walking silently, only the sound of her feet padding along the floor. She pushed through, the utter silence of the of the ball room echoing in the prince's ears.

"Well I never..." Councilor Yankov said in a huff, tugging on his suit jacket.

Jarvan turned on the councilor, his head tracking like that of a hawk, his eyes settling on the man with fury in his eyes. His hands twitched, struggling not to convulse into fists as the prince glared at him with narrowed eyes.

"You never _what?" _Jarvan hissed menacingly.

"I've..." The councilor stood up straighter and cleared his throat. He tried to look proud, but as Jarvan took several steps forward, the man realized that his attempts to appear taller and more commanding failed utterly next to the prince's massive bulk and towering presence. "I've never been so offended by such an animal!" He refused to meet the prince's gaze as Jarvan's incredulous look turn from dumbstruck awe to utter fury.

"You never _WHAT_!?" Jarvan snarled. "You're trying to tell me that you, a limp-wristed little bastard of a politician, are offended!?"

"Your highness, please contain yourself!" Yankov stammered, her eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.

"Contain myself?" Jarvan spat, disbelief and anger on his face. "You just sent a young woman running, crying, from this room because your drunk ass decided to be as tasteless and fucking stupid as you could possibly be!" Jarvan snarled, wielding his finger like a sword, the general watching it with fear. The words sunk in like the man he be physically assaulted. His face went from red to purple as the portly man smashed his wine glass upon the floor. "It's good to see the moral rot and corruption has spread equally!

"Corrupt!?" The councilor spluttered, raising his voice. "These claims are baseless and inappropriate, _prince!"_

Jarvan barked a cruelly sharp laugh at the man's face. "Hardly, you crooked little wretch!" The prince leaned forward, glaring at the man with anger in his face. "A morally bankrupt little _fuck_ like you doesn't belong in this court, much less in Demacia." The prince sneered. "I would scrape you off my boot but I'm afraid the stick I used would be offended."

_"How dare you!?" _The councilor bellowed, his voice becoming shrill as he spluttered. "I should have thought a man such as yourself would have the respect for office owed to an official like me! Or maybe you lost that respect when you led hundreds of Demacian soldiers to their deaths, three years ago!"

Jarvan cocked his arm back and sent the councilor flying, crashing into a table that was covered with fruits and deserts to the collective gasp of the crowd, and the screams of some of the guests. Jarvan's brow was dark and cold, his eyes empty and menacing.

"Never speak those words again." Jarvan sank back, hold his fist up, the white glove of his uniform covered in blood.

Lorcan sighed and clicked his tongue twice, gesturing to the guards and then then prince. The guards started forward from their positions around the perimeter of the grand hall, but the king raised a hand and stopped them before they could intervene, returning to the room from his escort of the Piltovans from the hall. "Wait. I wish to see what he does first."

"He just struck a councilor, sir!" Lorcan protested, frowning as he leaned on his cane. The king's glare, though brief, silenced the general's complaint. Lorcan bowed tactfully, though he rolled his eyes and tossed the last of his wine off as he turned away, looking into his cup before he wandered away to find more.

"Perhaps you'd like to explain the manifests I found in your records that spoke of your trading with Noxian merchants?" Jarvan hissed quietly, as he leaned down and grabbed the dazed man by the collar. He hauled the councilor to his feet, the man mumbling softly for several moments as he tried to blink away the pain. A dark shiner was already starting to form around the councilor's eye. "Maybe you should think less of lining your pockets and start thinking about the people of Demacia! The people of Valoran!" Jarvan pointed towards the door that Shyvana had retreated through. "Beast she may be, but unlike you she has the courage to face down a death squad, sent to execute her by a petty and malicious prick, not all too different from yourself!"

"Courage alone does nothing for peace, your highness." Yankov started to protest, but the prince's glare again caused him to snap his jaw shut.

"Peace?" Jarvan scoffed. "I see no peace in Valoran. I see only the suffering of her people and the moral rot of filthy politicians like you who would rather see themselves stay in power and line their pockets than help the people who suffer under the tyranny of the likes of Noxus! Peace was lost when I was attacked in my quarters, the woman I loved sentenced to death by assassins, to strike at me, simply to make it personal! What part of that speaks of Peace!? Peace has failed, councilor." Jarvan said, glaring at the man with furious eyes. "You may be content to fester in your so called 'peace', but I as a Lightshield... no, as a Demacian, demand action! This is not peace. This is war." Jarvan's eyes tracked over the rest of the crowd, many of the officials and officers looking at him with disbelief and shock upon their faces. "I may not speak softly enough for the likes of you people, but I am a Soldier. But above that... I am a Demacian."

"I am a Demacian too!" Yankov protested, looking at the prince incredulously. "What gives you the right to judge me?"

"You're not Demacian, you're nothing but scum." Jarvan turned and looked down at Yankov, the contempt clear upon his face. "I have seen what it means to be Demacian. Shyvana may be part dragon, yes, but she is truly Demacian, through and through." Jarvan let the contempt seep into his voice. "She has far more honor and humanity than you, and she's only half human. The malice she faces... and the selfishness you exude, they are diseases that plague Demacia and they need to be removed, be it by my idealism or my lance. Anyone who comes to Demacia and chooses to embrace our lifestyle and live within our borders are expected to share those ideals and virtues. You, as a councilor, are as much an exemplar of that as I am. You should look at your own faults before you try to judge someone else."

Jarvan spun of his heal, freezing for a brief moment as he locked eyes with his father. There was no anger in his father's eyes, and after staring into the cold blue orbs, the king nodded once.

Jarvan turned on his heel and headed for the balcony, leaving the crowd in a stunned silence.

The king grinned. _He might just make it in this world after all._


	45. Chapter 44: Afterparty

Shyvana padded slowly along the massive terrace that wrapped about the rear side of the main entrance hall. It overlooked the main courtyard and gardens at the heart of the palace. She paused, looking down at her ruined gloves and the shoes she had kicked off and grabbed as she had left. She frowned, sighing softly, but as she looked as her soft, pale palms, she felt heat and bile rising in her throat and the sting of tears in her eyes. She ripped the gloves from her hands and tossed them, along with the high-heeled shoes over the edge, leaning heavily on the railing as she ran a hand over her eyes, exhaling heavily, her shoulders shuddering as she did.

She shivered in the cold, her breath clouding before her. She looked up as something descended just outside her view of the courtyard below. Snowflakes descended down around her. She spun, holding her hands up in front of her face, dropping into a fighting stance.

"It is odd you see such a beautiful creature out here in the cold." A deep voice rumbled, stone shifting subtly from above. "Shouldn't you be inside with your people?"

Shyvana dropped her guard and exhaled as she looked up and back at the massive stone golem that descended from his perch to sit upon the balcony next to her. The golem looked up to the sky and then shifted slightly, extending out a massive wing to cover her from the falling snow. "Galio... what are you doing out here?"

"My duty." Galio laughed softly, his gravelly voice shivering through his entire stone body. "I am the Sentinel of Demacia. I stand guard and stand vigil over the Palace and city when my duties do not call me further away than the parapets of the palace." He looked down at Shyvana, dark eyes gleaming in the dull evening light.

"It must be nice to have such a clean cut job." Shyvana sighed softly, leaning her weight upon the stone railing that protected anyone from the massive drop the stone and grass below. "Those are not my people... I am as much an outcast to them as you are."

"It can be simple, yes." The golem rumbled thoughtfully. "But it can also be lonesome, especially considering what I am."

"A gargoyle?" Shyvana prompted, looking over at him.

"Yes, but I was implying how different I was from everyone else." The gargoyle golem chuckled again, shifting to look back over his shoulder towards the door. "You and I are different from everyone else, and it drives us apart from many that would often see us as friends otherwise. Simply for our appearances, people judge us and abandon us as sub-human."

"How do you deal with it?" Shyvana asked softly. "Do you try to fight it?" She looked down as her fists and frowned, looking back at the golem, waiting for his answers.

"I've had other creatures tell me I should fight it, attack the humans who look down on me militantly, for I am every bit as sentient as they are, and I deserve what they call 'basic human rights'." The gargoyle grinned, the massive jaw the stone golem possessed sitting at a crooked angle. "However, I fear that violence only begets further violence, and while my post is lonesome, save for some friendly pigeons, I love this city. A skin of stone and a stout heart are necessary in this world, and it is my opinion that acceptance begins with understanding."

"How do you put up with the attacks then?" Shyvana said softly, hugging her arms around her body.

"As I said: I have a skin of stone!" The gargoyle boomed a massive laugh and pebbles dropped from his body in places, bits of stone drifting from his joints. "Their words do not hurt my body any more than arrows or swords would."

"Then how do you bear is all?" Shyvana asked somberly. She dropped down, her back against the railing as she formed a small ball of flames in her hands, letting the warm flames dance along her skin. Her palms and her hands turned an eerie blue in the dim, starless night, the orange flames giving her blue skin a gray cast. "How do you withstand the hatred and the slander they throw at you? The anger and fear they show you..."

"As I said, my skin is stone." The golem said softly. "My mind, though it might not be made stone, has been hardened by years of tempering. My lonesome post is cold at times, but that is how I want it. You and I are alike, in how we came to Demacia. My father… he was a renowned artificer by the name of Durand. My brothers and sisters, we watched over all of the border towns of Demacia, for he loved this city and all her lands above all else. I came to love these lands in the same way that he did, as we crossed their beauty back and forth. My father was a kind man, he accepted no pay from any of Demacia's people for his services, and instead he took his payment in the safety and happiness that his creations brought to the people of the land. He loved us all, and he instilled this sense of love for Demacia in all of us. However, he earned the ire of the Noxian High Command after his years and years of defense, his creations, my brothers and sisters, opposing Noxus at every step. That was why I was created. I was my father's greatest creation, forged to protect him and his work as he traveled within Demacia. However, after years of work, Durand and I were set upon by Noxian Assassins in force. As we crossed through the Howling Marsh, I was outnumbered and overwhelmed, and had to watch in horror as my charge was cut down in his path. Durand, my master, my father, was cut down and murdered, and they returned to the mists, vanishing again into the nothingness."

"How... how did you survive?" Shyvana said in horror, a hand over her mouth.

"For years, hundreds of years, I despaired, standing vigil over his bones, long after they had gone, disappeared from the face of Runeterra." Galio sighed softly, more dust fell from his joints as he shifted slightly. "I was lost, unable to move, unable to stray for I feared I had failed everything my father had stood for. I stood there as a monument to my own shame, stripped of my reason for being, an idol to Durand."

"You're just like me..." Shyvana said softly, running a hand along the golem's wing above her. "You lost your father and you lost your purpose as well. But how... how did you overcome it?"

"Yes." The gargoyle nodded. "My salvation came in the form a small Yordle girl. She took shelter under one of my wings from the rain one lonesome day. She carried with her a crown, but she also carried a massive burden upon her shoulders. As quietly and as quickly as she had arrived, she left, heading in the direction of Demacia, continuing her journey, carrying her charge and her burden. While I had failed my charge, I had failed further in my duty. I chose to defend what little remained of my father, carrying on his legacy and his name. I was the Idol of Durand, defending his legacy, but that day, I became something more. I had become a legacy myself, and it was then that I chose to carry on his legacy, rather than continuing my pain. I chose to serve Demacia in my father's stead, becoming the city's silent guardian."

Shyvana looked up at the golem with sadness in her eyes, feeling the creature's pain. She had felt it before as well.

"That was many years ago, however." Galio said softly, shaking off the weariness in his voice. "You, young one, shouldn't have to suffer the years of isolation within Demacia, by choice or otherwise, and if the yelling that can be heard from within the palace is any evidence, I don't think you shall have to suffer any fate similar. I've won my acceptance among the Demacian people through my service and my loyalty." Galio said, nodding slowly. "But it took me many years to so much as gain the trust of the many palace guardsman and the officers and leaders of the city. But because I love Demacia, and with it all of her peoples, they came to respect me as well."

"People regard me with fear and disgust." Shyvana said softly, holding her knees to her chest. "They fear my anger and they distance themselves from me."

"But you have friends despite that, yes?" Galio suggested. "Humans can be fickle and fearful beings, often concerned with their appearances and status more than their moral or mental health. They squabble and argue and fight amongst themselves. It is one of many things that simply comes second nature to humans."

"Dragons are not so different." Shyvana said softly. "My father was killed, hounded till his death by a dragon who let his petty nature get the best of him. My simple existence drove him to madness, and it cost my father his life."

"That shouldn't mean you need to suffer later in life, now should it?" Galio rumbled. "He would want you to be happy." Galio grinned crookedly. "You must find what, or _who_, makes you happy?"

"What do you mean?" Shyvana said, looking up, her ears perking up as she listened to the voices she could hear now that she was paying attention. One voice carried above all the others. "Jarvan?"

"Exactly!" Galio exclaimed loudly, startling the dragoness. "He may be rough around the edges and a bit hard headed, but the prince is a good man. I've watched him grow from a boy to a man here as sentinel. He is your salvation, young one. Do not listen to the others who scold and talk down to you, they are but fools."

"But they do not accept me." Shyvana said, frowning slightly, looking at her hands. "How am I supposed to be happy when I am shunned and attacked, simply for being myself?"

"You mistake happiness as the approval of others." Galio said firmly. He raised a massive, stony fist and tapped Shyvana on the breast bone. "You must find what makes you happy, young one. For me, that was seeing Demacia be successful and happy. Decide what it is for you and follow that, do not let the judgment of others decide for you." A brief moment of silence hung in the air as the golem leaned down towards Shyvana. He gestured towards her hip. "If my eyes do not deceive me, there is something hidden in your sash, is there not?" Shyvana looked down, running a hand over the pale blue and yellow sash, the familiar weight of the dagger she had commissioned weighing upon her hand.

_Jarvan's dagger..._

Shyvana nodded silently, looking from the metal up to the door, watching and listening as the yelling finally died down. An eerie silence followed as she watched the door. A shadow lumbered into view, cutting through the light that shown from within. Jarvan stormed into the cold air and Shyvana quickly tucked the knife away. Galio cast her a curious look but said nothing, instead turning to the prince. He stopped just outside the door, looking skyward, taking a brief moment to suck in a deep breath of the cold air.

Shyvana got to her feet, holding her arms close. "Jarvan..."

"I suppose that is your answer, isn't it?" The golem said softly, chuckling to himself as he turned to face the prince. "Good evening, my prince." Galio bowed deep, sweeping and arm and a wing across his body as he did so. "I take it from the yelling and present company that the party did not go nearly as planned."

"Politicians are pigheaded, slow witted, greedy, self-absorbed and detached." Jarvan growled, sighing softly as he shook his head.

"Ah, but my prince, aren't you a politician as well?" Galio said, an almost mocking tone in his voice.

"My opinion stands." Jarvan grumbled, shrugging his shoulders, he glanced at Shyvana and then moved towards her and then stopped next to her.

"Point, my prince." The gargoyle rumbled, grinning crookedly. "With that, I take my leave." He bowed again in his overtly fancy flourish and then again to Shyvana. "If you ever need to talk, you can always find me here." The stony creature grinned and turned, moving along the balcony. Shyvana nodded as the gargoyle spread his wings and took to the air, circling about before disappearing above them and the roofline.

Shyvana squirmed anxiously where she stood, looking down at the prince. "Jarvan, I-..."

He held up a hand and cut her off, surprise clear on her face.

"If you apologize to me, I swear I'm going to kick your ass." Jarvan growled, leaning back against the stone column his back was to as he looked up at the sky above. Snow drifted down around him. "God I fucking hate politicians." Jarvan muttered, shaking his head again as he dropped his gaze to Shyvana and then to the ground. "I just wanted to apologize."

"For what?" Shyvana said, again taken by surprise. _"_I was the one who disgraced you in there..." She said softly, looking down at her hands and frowning.

"How?" Jarvan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"By losing control..." Shyvana said, looking down at her hands. "I let your trust in me go to waste! I nearly attacked a councilor!" Jarvan laughed aloud, letting his head hang back as he did. His voice echoed around the courtyard and bounced off of towers, and the hurt expression that Shyvana tried to hide hardened slightly. "Jarvan, it's hardly a laughing matter..."

"Shyvana, you really need to calm down." Jarvan said with a grin.

"Calm down?" Shyvana stammered, struggling to find words to express the despair she felt. "If we're separated over something like this... I don't... I don't know what I'd do without you!"

Jarvan blushed, blinking lamely a few times. He reached out and took Shyvana's hand, tugging her after him. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" Shyvana asked, looking towards the doorway they had emerged from. Jarvan pushed past it, tugging her along. They moved swiftly through the castle, finally arriving at the prince's room. He pushed into his room, ensuring the doors were closed and locked behind him as she stepped into the room behind him. She looked about the open bedroom, glancing about. The last time she had been in here, Jarvan had gotten shot. Shyvana sniffed the air briefly and noticed that a plate of chocolate chip cookies that had been lain out on the table.

"You were planning this, weren't you?" Shyvana said, looking about. Shyvana suppressed a smile as she grabbed a cookie and chewed on it. It was still warm. The room was slightly chilly, though the idea of sharing it with the prince was still warm and inviting. "What are we doing here?"

Jarvan grinned as he tossed several pieces of his armor aside, the metal clanking against the ground and clattering away. He had stripped down to just his tunic and pants, though he struggled with the boots, he finally managed to kick them off, turning to Shyvana. He had pushed the door part way open, and he wore a crooked smile. "Let's go a round." He disappeared into the bathroom, the door nearly swinging shut behind him.

Shyvana's face immediately burned a fierce red. "W-w-what!?" The sound of running water could be heard from within the bathroom, the prince having left the dragoness standing alone in the room, bewildered and embarrassed. She looked about at the clothes, uniform pieces and armor the prince had strewn about, her face still burning red. She shed her gown, leaving the light weight tunic that ran along her chest and fell over her stomach, ending high on her thighs. The chill of the evening air sent goose bumps running up and down her arms as she moved timidly towards the bathroom.

"Jarvan?" Shyvana gently pushed the bathroom door open, revealing the pale, polished stone. Ornate and overly opulent, the suite's bathroom was just as decadent as the rest of the rooms. It had a massive soaking tub that looked as if it could fit ten men, and large shower and plenty of space. She stepped down the short corridor that opened into the main open area of the bath, the stone uncharacteristically cool underfoot. "Jarvan?" Shyvana repeated himself, slightly louder this time. He stuck his head out as if he halfway expected an attack. He looked both ways, the bath to the right and the shower to the left. Steam rolled out from the shower, condensation making the stone wet and slick. Jarvan paused in the doorway, one hand upon his hip as he ran the other through his hair.

"In here." Jarvan's voice was drowned out by the sound up burbling water. "I had originally wished to ask you to dance in the more traditional sense, but I think this will have to do." Jarvan chuckled softly. "It has been said that dancing was an art that stemmed from combat, refined to accept the body and show off the human form. Though, I personally always preferred fighting to dancing... I was never good at dancing."

The prince had submerged his head under the water spigot of the sink, and was running cold water over his head. Shyvana paused in the doorway, leaning upon the frame. Jarvan cut the water off, but remained with his head over the sink bowl, letting the water drip from his long hair and down the drain. He sighed, pushing himself up. He tousled his hair with a towel till it was moderately dry, still rubbing the side of his head he turned, leaning back against the counter the sink basin sat on.

"Fighting?" Shyvana repeated softly. "What are you talking about?" Shyvana clutched her hands over her chest, her face burning red.

"I'd ask where your clothes went, but... y'know, I'm just gonna sit here and enjoy the view." Jarvan said with a cocky grin. Shyvana held her hands over her chest, blushing.

"Don't look..." Shyvana said softly. "You said you wanted to go a round... you're still wearing your clothes..." Jarvan blanched for a moment and then bellowed a hearty laugh, shaking his head. "What!" Shyvana stammered, her face again burning bright red.

"I was thinking fighting." Jarvan said with a crooked grin. "Just burn a little energy, cool off a bit, but you know, if you'd prefer _that_, you can go ahead and blow m-..."

"Jarvan Lightshield, you jerk!" Shyvana shouted, turning away. "Just... just get out!"

"If you really want me to..." Jarvan said in a singsong tone, taking a half step towards the door.

"Wait..." The voice was fierce but desperate, as if Shyvana was afraid he was really going to leave. Jarvan sighed, his shoulders drooping as he stepped forward, pulling the dragoness into a hug, wrapping his arms around her. He set a hand upon her head, still chuckling softly as Shyvana punched him gently. Jarvan patted her head a few times, and watched as she blushed and glanced away. Jarvan chuckled; he knew that despite the childish nature of the gesture, that it was immensely comforting to Shyvana. Jarvan let his head fall back as he took a few deep breaths. Shyvana avoided looking at him, rubbing her nose quickly as if she had to hide something. Jarvan smiled to himself as Shyvana tried to peek at him from behind her bangs. She made a small sound when he caught her and smiled, watching her as she tried to hide her surprise.

"So like I said, let's go a round." Jarvan said, resting a hand upon the counter top. Shyvana paused, surprised. "We've got nothing better to do right now."

"I can think of a few things." Shyvana said with a mildly entertained grin as she watched Jarvan peel the soaked white dress tunic off his chest. "But I'll humor you if this is really what you want to do." Jarvan took a hold of a corner in his mouth and ripped a strip of fabric off the tail of the shirt and then another, wrapping both of them around his hands and cinching them tight. He cast the shirt aside as he walked up to Shyvana and leaned down to where his lips hovered just a few millimeters away from Shyvana.

"You once told me that you and your dad used to fight to blow off steam." Jarvan said, taking a step back, a relaxed smile on his face as Shyvana tried to follow him as if she had been looking for a kiss. Jarvan rolled his head about, cracking his neck. "So, let's go a round. After that shitshow, I need to blow a little steam off." Jarvan eased into a loose fighting stance, his feet vaguely shoulder width apart and his arms up in front of his face in defensive positions.

"This is hardly the place..." Shyvana said, looking around and then looking down at her hands hesitantly. She tucked her hands under her arms and glanced away, still looking hesitant.

"So you're chickening out then?" Jarvan said, bouncing back and forth from foot to foot. He smirked. "I guess I win by forfeit then."

"I don't want to hurt you." Shyvana said softly. "I've come so close to hurting people recently, if I keep doing that then-..." Shyvana threw up her guard as Jarvan swept forward, throwing a sharp jab at her. A burst of flames shielded her from the blow, and the sizzle and steam of Jarvan's fist wrappings caused her more pain then anything. "See!" Shyvana said desperately. "I won't fight you."

"I don't care." Jarvan said, his guard still up, watching Shyvana with an even glare.

Shyvana looked annoyed as she glared at the prince. "But Jar-..."

"I told you, I don't care!" Jarvan said, gesturing for her to put her dukes up. Shyvana refused, starting to turn away, and the prince sighed. "No flames, no magic, no shields, just you and me, love. Our fists, our bodies, close and fast, simple kick boxing, that's it."

Shyvana blushed softly, looking the prince up and down. "But-..."

"I told you, I don't care!" Jarvan shouted, the dragoness finally grimacing.

"If you're going to ride my ass about this... the least you can do is pull my hair." Shyvana said stretching out her legs. She leaned on one leg and then the other, pulling her hair out and letting it fall behind her. "Don't blame me when you get hurt..."

"Oh yeah?" Jarvan said, a wide grin on his face, raising his hands up and starting to move back and forth from foot to foot again. "How about this... you win and I'll do whatever you want... I win and..."

"I do whatever you want." Shyvana said, mirroring his grin. "Fair enough." Jarvan jumped forwards, striking quickly with two low jabs that were aimed at Shyvana's stomach. She dodged the first and knocked the second aside, but she wasn't able to follow up quick enough as Jarvan brought his knee up and across, stopping just inches from Shyvana's side.

"One point." Jarvan took three steps backwards and resumed his guard, keeping his fists high and ready to block. "You're distracted, Shyvana." He smiled as a frustrated look turned to determination. "Forget about everything else, about everyone else. I want all of your concentration here on me." Shyvana smiled toothily at him as she fixed her foot work and started pacing in a circle. Jarvan matched the circling motion, never dropping his guard.

Shyvana launched her attack as she slid forward along the slick stone, striking once with her right fist, Jarvan taking the blow with his forearm. She quickly followed up with two more strikes that went high left and then low right, with her right and left hands, striking across her body. She jumped backwards as Jarvan tried to strike back with his elbow, his footwork quickly shuffling forward and then backwards as Shyvana advanced and retreated, matching her aggression with aggression. Jarvan slid forwards quickly striking out at her legs with his foot, trying to trip her, but she stepped backwards quickly and then back in to go for a strike. Jarvan parried the four strikes she launched with his arms again, taking some of the hits directly and knocking some aside. He ducked the last one, dropping low and sweeping Shyvana from her feet, sending her to her butt. He swept in and struck at her head, stopping the punch just short of striking her again.

"Two points." Jarvan said, offering his hand to Shyvana. She brushed some water from her chin with the back of her hand and accepted Jarvan's hand. Jarvan hauled her up and Shyvana slid straight into Jarvan's arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down into a kiss. Jarvan responded to the kiss in earnest, and Shyvana kicked off of him, sending him crashing backwards into the soaking tub. Shyvana landed nimbly on the edge of the pool a victorious grin on her face.

"One point." She purred watching as the bubbles disappeared from the surface of the water. Shyvana waited for him to surface, watching the dark shape of his body remaining unmoving. "...Jarvan?"

The prince burst from the water like a predator surfacing from the depths of the ocean and wrapped his hands around Shyvana, pulling her into the water and dunking her. He kept his hands wrapped around her tightly as he lifted her clear of the water.

"Three points!" Jarvan proclaimed as Shyvana coughed.

"Eep!" Shyvana yelped as Jarvan grabbed her chest and gave it a good couple of squeezes. "No fair!" Jarvan held on, continuing to squeeze and massage her chest. Shyvana was blushing furiously now as she struggled against Jarvan's grip. She was having trouble finding her strength as Jarvan kneaded her breasts, slipping one hand inside her shirt. The sensation of his rough skin against her delicate chest was enough to get her to moan aloud, her body becoming putty in his hands. Jarvan slid away and pulled himself from the tub, a devilish grin on her face. She was blushing furiously and she had to wipe away a tendril of saliva that had dribbled down her chin.

"You can always just give up now and let me have my way with you if you're really that horny..." Jarvan said with an imperious grin, tapping his head. Shyvana blushed but pulled herself from the tub, swiping water from her hair and looking in the mirror. Horns had formed atop her head and her eyes were orange slits that faded back to their magenta color as she blinked a few times.

"Make up your mind about what you want to do!" Shyvana said fiercely as she settled into a cat stance. "Or are you trying to get me worked up?"

Jarvan snorted and grinned. "Well, yes, and I'm trying to piss you off as well!"

"Well it's working!" Shyvana snarled as she shook the water of her body, noticing the prince's eyes linger a bit on her form. "What's the point of this? Aside from you simply staring at me?"

"Beat me and I'll tell you!" Jarvan said, gesturing her forward with the waggle of a finger. "Bring it, hot stuff. Hit me with your best shot." Shyvana grinned coyly as she raised her hands above her. The white tunic was all but transparent and as she lowered her arms backwards in a languid stretch that showed off all of her assets, she saw Jarvan's guard drop just a bit. She struck fast and quick, ducking low and striking at Jarvan's arms with a flurry of blows, following with a quick strike that glanced off his shoulder. She drove on, following up with a left, waist high kick as Jarvan tried to turn to block the flurry of right hand blows. Jarvan was stepping to the side as well as Shyvana kicked, and she wasn't able to stop the kick. The blow connected, the thud echoing up through Shyvana's body. She hesitated, starting to apologize for it, but Jarvan had already dropping his arm down around her leg. He wore a lewd grin as he enjoyed the liberal view of her legs before he twisted her about. Shyvana spun in the air and landed on both of her hands. She looked back over her shoulder and had to blush as Jarvan was looking down at her.

"Have I ever told you that you have a really nice ass?" Jarvan said, holding onto her leg and twisting it about in a hold. Shyvana pushed off the ground and twisted about, breaking free of Jarvan's hold. She twisted one leg over Jarvan's shoulder and pulled herself up, the look of surprise on Jarvan's face more than enough to give her a giddy smile. She brought her other leg up as she ran her hands into the stunned Jarvan's hair, holding on as she wrapped her long legs around his neck. She rocked once up against his face with a cruel, almost teasing grin before she spun and slid down his back. She grinned and patted his own butt, spinning and kicking, sending him stumbling forward.

"You're not too bad off, yourself." Shyvana mused with a singsong tone. Jarvan spun about as he ducked back, a shiver running down his spine. "I would tell you're distracted as well, and that I want all your attention here on me, but I think that is your issue right now." Shyvana offered him a devious grin.

"Holy shit." Jarvan muttered breathlessly, blinking stupidly, him mind struggling to catch up. "Where'd you learn that and who the hell do I have to beat the life out of?" Shyvana strutted past, making sure her rear bounced up and down just enough to catch his eye. She strutted straight past him, letting a finger drift over his chin as she passed. She flipped her hair over and smacked him in the face with her mane of long red hair, soaking him again. Jarvan barked an entertained laugh, wiping water and hair from his face.

"Here and there..." Shyvana said with a tantalizingly melodious voice. She paused, spinning about and strutting back up to Jarvan. He sucked in a breath as Shyvana walked a pair of fingers up Jarvan's body, brushing her fingers along his abs and his pecs. She ran a hand up his arm and smiled sweetly at him. "Oh and..." She leaned up against Jarvan, letting her chest brush teasingly against him. "That's three." She struck him square in the stomach. The prince hunched over, groaning. Shyvana pushed him gently backwards and watched as he tumbled backwards into the tub, water splashing and sloshing over the edge of the pool.

Jarvan thrashed under the surface of the water for several seconds before he finally surfaced, spluttering. He coughed as he cleared his lungs of water, only to get something dropped on his head. He struggled with the wet fabric, finally managing to pull it off, struggling with the fabric for a few seconds before he realized what it was. He grinned, tossing Shyvana's tunic onto the stone as he pulled himself from the water.

"Now it gets really fun." Jarvan hollered after Shyvana. He emerged from the bathroom cautiously, sticking his head out first. Jarvan chuckled as he emerged, posting his fists upon his hips, watching Shyvana with a grin. "I suppose that makes four, right?" Jarvan said, gesturing to the cookie that Shyvana was munching on. She paused, blushing and standing up, brushing the crumbs from her hands. She chewed quickly and then took a sip from a mug that had appeared in their time in the bathroom, pausing then lifting the mug all the way up, downing the entire thing in a single go.

"Your point." Shyvana said, smiling coyly, despite the fact that she was wearing nothing but water drenched undergarment. "But, I want you to explain to me what exactly we're doing here." Shyvana said, eying the tray again, her hand drifting towards it. She shook her head and then looked up at Jarvan. He smiled. The fear and timid trepidation that had consumed the magenta orbs before was gone, replaced with determination and confidence, though not a small amount of frustration as well. "This entire evening… why all the anger, why all the fighting, why all of this."

"It's still only four to three." Jarvan said with a smile. "You haven't won: you don't get an answer quite yet."

"Fine then, let's go." Shyvana said, setting her jaw. "I guess I'm going to have to beat the answer out of you." She grabbed a cookie and stuck it into her mouth, munching on it happily as she lowered herself into a fighting stance again. Jarvan grinned as he lowered himself into a similar stance as he brought one hand up in a guard position, keeping the other loose next to his body. Shyvana noticed the change in stance as she swallowed the last of her cookie, licking her fingers as tantalizingly as possible. Jarvan crossed one foot over the other, starting the slow circle again, ignoring the gesture. "You've been a bit distracted, Jarvan. Maybe you could explain that as well..."

"Maybe. It is rather hard to watch you walk around with your chest hanging out, making such a mess with every single bite of cookie you take. You're getting my room dirty." Jarvan said, grinning. Shyvana simply grinned coyly, batting her eyelids as prettily as possible.

"If you like, I can put them away." Shyvana said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No need..." Jarvan said with a grin. "You'll just be taking them out later anyways..."

"Funny, I was going to say the same about your trousers there." Shyvana took that exact moment to attack, catching Jarvan with his legs crossed, stumbling as she came. As he stumbled though, he rolled to the side, ducking under Shyvana's overhand strike that was aimed directly for his chest. As he rolled up to his feet, he reached out and gave Shyvana a brisk slap on the butt, causing the Dragoness to jump, turning about to face him. She growled, her brow creased in anger.

"We'll call that a half..." Jarvan said winking. Shyvana gave him a toothy grin as she kissed her hand and blew Jarvan a kiss. She smiled coyly as a small flaming heart floated through the air towards Jarvan. He raised an eyebrow, a sardonic grin on his face as it closed with him. It popped and sparkled, creating a smiley face right in front of Jarvan's face.

Shyvana was already high in the air as the fireworks exploded in his face, distracting him just long enough for Shyvana to launch herself through the air, propelled by her flames. She landed two feet squarely on Jarvan's chest, sending him crashing to the ground, rolling backwards once, and crashing to a halt against the wall. He blinked the pain away though, watching as Shyvana leaned forward towards him, giving him a lovely view of her chest.

"Eyes are up here, your highness..." Shyvana said, raising his chin with a finger.

"Seriously..." Jarvan said, pushing himself up off the ground. "Where did this side of you come from?" He wore a cheeky grin that told of his curiosity and his entertainment at the same time.

"This is what you get when I spend the better part of a month training with a bunch of swaggering block heads with their pricks doing more thinking than their heads." Shyvana, shrugging. "All I hear about is sex, food and how much soldiers hate training. You can also thank Delancey next time you see her, she likes to give me hints about how to _endear_ you."

"I'll make sure to thank her... And sock her in the jaw." Jarvan growled, starting to circle again. Shyvana came immediately though, launching a flurry of blows at Jarvan that he had to step back multiple times, trying to soak up the punishment Shyvana was putting out.

"What's wrong, too afraid to make the first move?" Shyvana snarled between volleys of punches.

"Nope, just thinking about how much I'm going to enjoy this." He raised his arm up and blocked a haymaker that Shyvana flung out, attacking with a step to the side as she tried to maneuver around Jarvan's armor. She took a half step back as she prepared another flurry of blows. Jarvan took this as a sign to attack, stepping inside her guard circle, knocking one of her hands aside as she tried to come up with a block. Jarvan brought up his arm as he tried to land a blow into her stomach, but she knocked it aside, landing a hard punch on his arm that snapped his arm back. Jarvan stepped out of range, waiting for her to come again.

Shyvana's breathing was starting to grow heavy, her chest heaving with every breath she took. Shyvana launched a high kick that Jarvan blocked with an arm and quickly sidestepped a jab, knocking the quick follow up strike aside with his other arm. He took another step back as he took several punches that were meant to be body blows on the arm, the strikes now starting to add up, the pain of what would undoubtedly be bruises forming on his arms. Jarvan was biding his time though, letting Shyvana wear herself down and soaking up the blows.

"Getting tired?" Jarvan taunted, still moving slowly around the floor, letting Shyvana come as she wanted and poking a few blows back to keep her interested.

"No!" Shyvana said with strained grin. "I just..." She wasn't able to finish her statement as Jarvan immediately stepped in. He shielded off a blow to the shoulder and ducked the strike that Shyvana launched at his head, stepping up to her, practically chest to chest. Jarvan brought his arms up her body and lifted her off her feet, pulling her into a deep kiss. Shyvana wrapped her arms around his shoulder and he could feel a leg getting not so subtly wrapped around him as he pushed slightly deeper, brushing his tongue across her lips. They parted for him and their tongues twisted for a few brief seconds before Jarvan came up for air.

"Mmmm..." Jarvan said with an amused grin. "You taste like chocolate..." Shyvana tapped him on the head with her hand, leaning her forehead against his.

"And I believe that makes five." Shyvana said with a grin. "You can start by fetching me a cookie." Shyvana said, sliding out of Jarvan's grip and taking a step back. "And then you get to explain everything to me."

"How about you fetch me a cookie, instead." Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow, trying not to grin. "I believe I won." Shyvana slunk forwards, walking a hand downwards along his body from his shoulder this time.

"Ah, but that's not the case." Shyvana said, wagging a finger in front of Jarvan's face. "You didn't actually land a blow... you thought you'd just sneak a kiss and grab my butt." Her smile widened as Jarvan frowned. "So technically I won, though."

"Oh?" Jarvan said, grinning as he raised an eyebrow. "How about this: I'll share the victory with you on won condition." Jarvan wrapped her arms around Shyvana and pulled her into a hug.

Shyvana cast him a wary look, narrowing her eyes. "And what condition is that?"

"Just let me apologize for earlier." Jarvan said quietly, resting his chin against the top of Shyvana's head. "I wanted tonight to be fun and enjoyable for you, instead it was an unmitigated disaster." Jarvan hung his head, taking a deep breath of Shyvana's scent. He released her and stepped away, dropping towards the edge of the bed. He sunk down to the floor next to the bed, resting his head against the soft surface, taking a few deep breaths. "Had I known things were going to degrade like that, I would have insisted that father call this off. It was ill timed and poorly executed."

Jarvan glanced at the dragoness, watching as she turned and then shrunk down next to him, her back against the bed. She hugged her legs to her chest, leaning up against him.

"You weren't responsible for it all." Shyvana said softly, shaking her head. "You didn't embarrass yourself like I did... I'm afraid that I'm losing control of myself. My flames are starting to burn hotter than they should... appearing when they shouldn't." She pulled away from Jarvan shaking her head and holding her arms close around her, letting her shoulders rise and fall slowly as she breathed deeply.

Jarvan furrowed his brow and frowned as she shook her head side to side. "What in the world is wrong, Shy?"

She looked over her shoulder at him and he could see tears welling in her eyes as she cowered backwards in fear. "I feel something deep within me... something black and hateful." She shook her head and stepped backwards when Jarvan tried to draw closer to her. "Don't! You'll merely get burned!" Jarvan scruffed his hair, growling as he did.

"Damnit, I don't care!" Jarvan roared, reaching over and wrapping his arms around her waist. He drew her close, tugging her into his lap, glaring intently at her. She looked surprised and afraid, the expression a child wore the first time they accidentally stepped on a new puppy's tail. She clamped her eyes shut, expecting danger.

But nothing happened.

"Jarvan..." She began to say, her voice hoarse as she opened her eyes, expecting a disapproving frown. The prince offered her a crooked but warm grin.

"Silence, Shy." He said gruffly, holding her head with one hand, the other wrapped around her body, holding her tight. "I don't want to hear it."

Her lips trembled as he held her close, stroking her hair gently. She buried her face in his neck as a few sobs wracked her body. Jarvan lowered her to the ground slowly, as she wrapped her arms around his chest and held on tight.

"Now please... tell me what's wrong." Jarvan said gently, letting her gain her composure.

"I just... I don't know what's wrong we me." She said, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her palm. "There is a dark, angry feeling within me... It hates when you look away from me and it makes me feel isolated when you laugh with your friends." She tried to tear herself away from Jarvan's grasp, but he held tight. He firmly grabbed her chin and tilted it upwards, pushing his lips against hers. He could feel the brush of tears upon her cheeks against his own, and her lashes tickled him as they fluttered shut. She had been taken aback, and had tried to pull away, but he held her tight and kissed her deeply till she began to melt into the embrace. He finally had to pull back for air and she gasped, breathing deeply.

"No fair." Shyvana murmured, blushing as she wiped a tear from one cheek. Jarvan chuckled softly, wiping another away with his thumb as he cupped her cheek.

"All's fair in love and war." Jarvan said gently. "You didn't hurt me with them when we were just fighting did you? Besides, I'm not afraid of a little heat."

"Everyone else is afraid though..." Shyvana said softly, exhaling deeply. "How can we be together when everyone hates me so? You're a prince, and I merely a common dragon. Everyone thinks I'm just your dog… a pet… a play thing… And I killed those men…"

"Shyvana," Jarvan said softly, smiling. "There is nothing 'common' about you. And as far as I'm concerned, many people humiliated themselves tonight, and none of them looked anywhere near as good as you in your dress." Jarvan offered her an easy grin that brought some color to her cheeks. "What those men in there said to you was hardly appropriate the setting and the station they hold, but I've always been told that alcohol only makes someone more truthful in their being. Your anger and outrage merely proved that you were more human than any of them, which is impressive considering you _are_ only half human." Jarvan winked, letting his smile fade. He sunk back against the edge of the bed, still holding onto the dragoness possessively.

"The political scene here in Demacia isn't so clean right now." Jarvan murmured, looking down at Shyvana, the dragoness now curled up into his lap. "The council is split between inaction and action against Noxus. The military can see all the signs that Noxus is beginning to prepare for war, but here in Demacia, the requests for troops and supplies are held up in the council chambers. The councilor who decided to voice his opinions this evening is one of the biggest opponents to my father's requests to requisition troops and supplies. Yankov…" Jarvan started to growl but the sound died in his throat. "He is playing the devil's advocate at every step. Anything he can do to undermine me undermines my father. Right now, the only way anyone can get to me is through you. That why Fury and his goons attacked you. Jormander was trying to strike me where it would hurt the most... you." Jarvan rest his forehead against the crown of Shyvana's head, taking a few deep breaths. "If I were to lose you, if anything were to happen to you, I would be lost, Shyvana." Shyvana pressed against him, a hand resting against his chest, the other laced within Jarvan's grasp.

"Can I get up?" Shyvana murmured, looking up to the prince. There was no regret or fear in her eyes, only happiness, pink tinging her cheeks.

"Sure…" Jarvan murmured, helping her up with a hand. He watched as Shyvana padded over to where her clothes had been discarded and she kneeled, pulling out a long slender knife. She blushed slightly as she looked down at the weapon, moving back to Jarvan's side and sat down next to him, tucking her legs under her as she clutched the weapon to her chest.

"I had hoped to give this to you earlier, but I think this is as good a time as any." Shyvana murmured as she handed the prince the knife, letting him hold the blade up in front of his face. He examined the ornate knife, drawing the blade from the sheath just enough to examine the sheen of the steel. He returned the knife to the sheath, examining the pommel, the snarling dragon's head looking back at him, rubies glinting in the eyes. He ran a finger over the grip.

"This is horn..." Jarvan said, looking down at the dragoness. "It is not yours, is it?"

Shyvana's surprise only served to delay the giggles for a few moments. She smiled broadly and shook her head, though it died slightly as she ran a few fingers on the horn, letting her hand rest on Jarvan's wrist. "It was Kampf's horn... I had Ambassador Poppy forge it so that you won't ever forget what we share. I was told it would be good to commemorate a good memory, but I don't think I could ever just choose one."

Jarvan looked at the blade and then smiled again, leaning in and kissing Shyvana. "Thank you, love. I shall keep it with me always. I only wished I had been able to show you a more fun evening. I had a lot planned, but it seems to have fallen to pieces already."

"I had fun." Shyvana said softly, taking the knife from him and setting it on the bedside table. She poked him in the side, the prince jumping in surprise. "Besides, you already apologized once."

Jarvan looked surprised for a moment and then grinned, letting his head fall back to look to the sky. He held his hand out and caught a snowflake in his palm. "I'm sorry. This evening was supposed to be all about you in a good way. You were to be introduced as both a hero and my consort. Now..." Jarvan exhaled sharply. "Well I think I managed to piss off just about every councilman, politician, and military official in that hall." Jarvan ran and hand over his face and sighed.

"Thank you for doing so." Shyvana said, closing her eyes, and lacing her fingers with Jarvan's fingers.

"For pissing a bunch of really old jerks?" Jarvan asked, grinning as he looked over at Shyvana. "Sure, if that's all it takes to keep you happy, I'll gladly keep pissing people off." He slid towards the ground, laying out on the cool floor. Shyvana dropped on top of him, resting her chin on his chest.

"Can I stay here tonight?" Shyvana asked softly. She turned her head and rested her head on his chest.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, love." Jarvan murmured, running his hand along her hair, stroking it gently.


	46. Chapter 45: Action

"Sir, I don't think this is a very good idea." Delancey murmured as she followed Jarvan through the outer rooms and towards his office. "General Lorcan specifically told us..."

"You saw General Lorcan last night, correct?" Jarvan asked sternly, creasing his brow, stopping at his desk and rummaging through a stack of papers. He paused in the hallway, looking down towards the courtyard at the center of the palace. People were congregating already, spectators looking forward to the fight. He turned to look back at Delancey, a cold, stern look on his face. "What part of his appearance or his actions, looked to be that of a proud general of Demacia? That was a man torn by his convictions and reality, drowning his pain in drink. He knows something he dearly wishes he did not and I am not going to let this slide. I held off my inquisition for Shyvana's sake last night, but with Shyvana and myself coming under such scathing scrutiny, I've finally decided that enough is enough. This needs to end and soon."

"But, sir, Jarvan, do we really want to cross the general?" Delancey said, practically begging.

"I was the one who brought him into this, and out of the respect I had for him, and the thanks I had for his help dealing with Jormander, I decided that I would respect his wishes to stay out of this business." Jarvan set his jaw and sighed, setting his hand upon the window pane, looking down over the courtyard. "I can't let this go on any longer. It's time I found out what Lorcan is hiding from."

"But..." Delancey started to protest, but Jarvan's glare silenced her.

"You can stay if you wish, but I'm going and you can't stop me." Jarvan growled. He sighed again and tightened the gauntlet on his forearm down, ensuring there was no movement when he shook his arm about. Sergeant Major Perrywinkle extended his arms, handing the prince's lance back to him.

"You're going to need this sir." The sergeant major's voice was gruff but it betrayed no anger or fear.

"Thank you." Jarvan said, sliding his hand around the leather wrapped metal, accepting the heavy weight like an old friend. "You're game, right Argus?"

"I never liked secrets, myself." He grunted, running a hand along his jawline. "This whole damn thing you've gotten me into... It's one big secret, and I think it's about time we broke it open."

"Good." Jarvan said, resting his lance on his shoulder and nodding to himself. He paused, looking down at the simple saber that hung on the Sergeant Major's waist. It was thin and had a fancy grip, fine carved metal around the hilt, curved back to form a partial circle that would wrap around the sergeant major hand when he held it. "I don't know what we're going to run in out there, sergeant major. You may want to get a bigger sword, a shield, maybe a lance."

"If time comes when I need one, sir, there will be plenty of them lying of the ground." The sergeant major grunted, offering Jarvan a thin smile that made the prince shiver.

"Right." Jarvan shook his head, looking to Delancey. "You coming or not?"

Delancey frowned, looking to the ground and then back up at Jarvan, a fist posted on her waist as she growled, and then scuffed a hand over her head, disheveling her hair. "Someone has to pull your ass out of the fire. Let's go."

Valentine walked into the door and started, spilling papers across the floor, surprised to see Jarvan, Delancey, and the sergeant major in full combat gear. "What's going on?"

"Damnit." Jarvan groused. "I wanted to avoid running into anyone else. Val, look..."

"You're leaving again, aren't you?" Valentine said softly, covering her mouth with her hand. "Just like three years ago. Just like Father and Shore..."

"No!" Jarvan's voice was laced with anger, his fists clenched around the lance as he snarled. He caught himself, and forced his body to uncoil. "No, I'm not going anywhere." Jarvan said softly, shaking his head to clear the anger he felt towards the loss of his friends, trying to offer the young woman a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, we'll only be gone about an hour."

"But..." Valentine stammered, tears starting to form in her eyes. Jarvan sighed softly and handed the lance off to the sergeant major, who accepted it silently.

"I'm not going to leave." Jarvan said reassuringly, "And please... I don't want you to hold your father or your brother in ill will over my selfish actions three years ago." Jarvan hung his head as he gently pulled Valentine into a hug. "I'll explain it soon enough." He released her and patted her on the head, offering her a proud smile. Valentine wiped tears from her cheeks and nodded. "I'll tell you all about what your father, brother and I did some time too, alright?"

Valentine nodded meekly, but put on a small, sad smile. "Thanks." She closed her eyes briefly and then shook her head. "But wait, what about... what about the duel?" Valentine said softly, looking to the window and the courtyard beyond. "Miss Shyvana is going to be fighting soon."

"I'll be back before the fight starts." Jarvan said with a confident grin, though he glanced to the floor blushing slightly. "And Shyvana has far more important things on her mind right now. I don't need to distract her any further than I already have. I appreciate the thought, and I'm sure she does as well." Jarvan patted the young woman on the head as Jarvan had seen her father do many times in the past, every time he and Shore had departed for a mission or training.

Valentine blushed but smiled and nodded. "You'd best hurry, I don't think she'd like it if you missed it."

"No, I don't think she would." Jarvan chuckled softly. He accepted his lance back from the Sergeant Major, tightening his cloak around his shoulders. "We'll be back shortly." He nodded to the young woman as he moved past her, heading for the door.

"You know Shyvana is going to be super pissed if you don't even show." Forsythe said smugly from the door. He was leaned up against the jamb, dressed in full armor, his sword and shield hung over his shoulder, his helmet snugged under his arm. "Like, fire and brimstone levels of pissed."

"Forsythe, you made it!" Delancey exclaimed happily upon seeing the young man standing in the door.

"That's why we're gonna hurry." Jarvan growled, rolling his eyes as he looked back at the young woman. "I thought I said to keep this secret, Del. Don't try and stop me, Forsythe."

"Stop you? I'm not here to stop" Forsythe said, stepping out of the doorway. "Just to make sure you get back to Shyvana safely." He held up a leaflet of paper in his hand and waved it about. "And don't think I didn't realize what you were doing when you asked me to check something out in the personnel records. Secretly investigating a General's daughter is grounds for a discharge I'll have you know."

"So you got it?" Jarvan said, letting a thin grin slide onto his face.

Forsythe nodded. "Yep. Just down the east road."

"Good." Jarvan glared at him with a frown and shook his head, glancing up at the clock on the wall. He sighed. "We're wasting time. Let's move."

* * *

Shyvana looked up at the clock on the wall that hung above the main door to the barracks.

_It's almost eleven o'clock..._ She looked around again, the fire crackling in the center of the high-ceilinged room but the emptiness made it feel far vaster than it was. The barracks had already emptied for the weekend, many of the men disappearing into the city to spend their wages on any of the vices that could choose or find. Shyvana frowned, shaking her head. _They'll drink the city dry and then waste the rest on prostitutes. _Shyvana exhaled heavily, sitting back further in her seat. _Where is Jarvan? I was hoping he'd show up before it started._

"It's just about show time, girl." Alicia said, smiling happily, approaching Shyvana from the side, clapping her hands once as she stopped next to Shyvana. She frowned slightly, Shyvana was still staring at the ground. "Hey, you okay, Shy?" She tapped Shyvana on the shoulder.

"Ahh!" Shyvana snarled and rolled away, flames flaring around her as she came up, her gauntlets raised up, one protectively over her chest and the other raised up and behind her body to strike out.

"Whoa, whoa..." Alicia said, her eyes wide as she took several steps backwards, surprise and fear on her face. "Hey, Shyvana, it's just me... June."

"Huh?" Shyvana blinked several times, running a hand over her face, her eyes returning to their normal magenta color as she shook her head. "June? What..."

"Easy there, girl..." Alicia said, softly, watching as Shyvana's flames died. "I know you're probably nervous about this fight, but I didn't mean to startle you. What's wrong? I've never seen you lash out like that before..."

"Sorry." Shyvana said, looking up at June as she picked herself off the floor. There was something different in Alicia's expression for once as she looked down at Shyvana. "I'm just a bit distracted."

"I'll say..." Alicia took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, clearing white hair from her face, tucking it behind her ears. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry." Shyvana said, working her hands together for a few seconds before she closed her fists and took a deep breath.

"Don't tell me you're having more hesitant ideas about this whole thing..." Alicia said, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow. She looked down at Shyvana and then glanced up at the clock, sighing. She kneeled, taking an armored glove from the table next to Shyvana and opening it up, holding it out for the dragoness to insert her hand. Shyvana looked hesitant but slid her hand it as Alicia closed it around her hand. "I thought you would have been in high spirits after last night. Surely you enjoyed yourself..."

"I did." Shyvana said softly.

"But?" Alicia prompted, helping Shyvana with the second of the armored gloves.

"I don't fit in." Shyvana said, letting Alicia guide her hand into the second gauntlet. "This is Jarvan's world, not mine. This world of politics, councilors and being king..." Shyvana shook her head as she looked up at Alicia. "What if I fail him? What will I do? I don't know anything else here... Last night, Jarvan said…" Her voice trailed off.

"What did he say?" June asked, patting Shyvana reassuringly on the gauntlet.

"He said to me, 'If I were to lose you, if anything were to happen to you, I would be lost.'" Shyvana said softly, shivering. "If we were to get separated because I failed to defeat the seneschal…"

Alicia laughed as Shyvana looked up, wearing a cross expression. "I'm sorry." Alicia said, excusing herself though she still wore a cheeky grin as she shook her head. "Only Jarvan could manage to make things worse by trying to help. Besides, no one fits into the Royal Court. That's why it's royal. If anything, it's a royal pain in the ass." Alicia said, laughing again. "Jarvan thinks so, I think so... it's something you're just have to grow into." Alicia tightened down the gloves, ensuring they fit properly. Satisfied, she gave Shyvana an encouraging smile. "You love the prince right?"

"More than anything." Shyvana said, almost desperately. She sat back, surprised by her own admission.

"And he feels the same about you." Alicia said, grinning. "The rumors about what happened are already circulating as it is." Alicia said lightly as she stood and looked the dragoness over. "Did he really shout down the entirety of the High Council?"

Shyvana blushed slightly. "Yes. He was angry about what they were saying of me..."

"And there you have it!" Alicia said, clapping Shyvana on the armored shoulder, one plate clanking against another. "Now, you have a fight to win. I expect nothing but the best from you, alright?"

"Yes ma'am." Shyvana said, sheepishly, grinning.

"Good!" Alicia said, posting her fists upon her hips and grinning from ear to ear. "Now, let's go find the prince and he can offer his own encouragement!"

"Right!" Shyvana said, grabbing her gauntlets as she hopped to her feet. Alicia stopped and turned back to face Shyvana.

"Do try and keep your clothes on, this time." Alicia said, grinning. "Last time he kissed you, your armor ended up in a pile on the floor." Shyvana blushed, frowning at Alicia, but she nodded regardless. "Alright! To the palace we go!"

Shyvana blushed slightly but nodded, following after Alicia.

* * *

The courtyard of the palace had been fashioned into a makeshift arena. Grandstands had been erected all around the center of the courtyard, and in the center there was a massive circle marked in the ground. Sod and the pathways had been pulled up leaving dirt covered by a thin layer of sand that formed the center of the arena where the fight would take place. There was a low wall formed around the sand pit, with gaps and platforms every few meters where mages would stand to erect the barrier that would keep the crowd safe from the fight and any flying debris or flames.

"Nervous?" Alicia said with a grin, looking at the young woman who stood in the doorway. Shyvana looked back at the gunny and offered her a thin smile.

"A little." Shyvana said softly. Alicia raised an eyebrow, glaring at her with a smile. "Okay, maybe a lot."

Vorscham stepped up out of the crowd and approached the doorway, shaking his head as Shyvana stepped back to let him enter. "It's a mad house out there." He grunted as he looked back over his shoulder at the crowd that was still gathering. "Most of the enlisted men not on duty and every single nobleman in the city is here to watch this fight after Jarvan's little tirade last night." Vorscham grinned, as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall next to the door. "You've got a lot of pressure on you, chickadee. You think you can handle it?"

"It's not the first time I've been forced into an arena where the spectators would enjoy seeing me fail." Shyvana said softly, stepping out of the door and kneeling, adjusting a strap on her sabaton. She froze, catching herself, and stood back up, shaking her hands out, the metal plate armor rattling slightly as she did.

Alicia frowned slightly, looking the dragoness up and down. "How does the new armor fit?"

"Well enough." Shyvana grunted softly. "It's much heavier than the previous suit of armor." Shyvana was encased in dark gray armor from head to foot, faint golden accents marking the plate mail in several places. Pauldrons and a breast plate protected her chest, and rerebraces and vambraces ran down her arms. A new, heavier set of shield and manifer hand been crafted to protect her armor clad hands, encased in an articulated gauntlet that wrapped her entire hand. A three lamed fauld fell down to her waist and from there, tassets hung along her thighs, and her legs and feet were encased in a set of grieves and sabatons. A collar with a set of stopribs protected her neck. The faint rattle of the full suit of scale mail beneath the armored plates could be heard with every step she took. Her red hair swayed around her, a single, massive thick braid falling down her back, encased in articulated armor plating. Dragon-hide leather straps ran along her thighs, waist and shoulders, keeping the main pieces of armor in place.

"Yes, well it will also protect you much better than the last set." Alicia said with grin. "I suppose an armored bikini is something to be reserved for the prince's private viewing."

"I don't need you making jokes as well." Shyvana groaned, shaking her head. "Has anyone seen Jarvan?"

"I was actually going to ask you that." Vorscham growled, looking back over his shoulder at the gathering crowd. "The king made a point of asking me to check with you about that. He wanted to talk with Jarvan before the fight."

"I saw him this morning." Shyvana said, looking at the floor. "He left about the same time I did this morning, but he didn't say when he would be back, only that he would. He disappeared right after we ate breakfast."

"He tends to do that, doesn't he?" Alicia quipped, tapping a finger on her chin. Shyvana's mouth hardened into a line as she looked at the ground and took a deep breath.

"It's time, my lady." A soldier announced, stepping into the hallway where Shyvana was waiting. The soldier bowed and then turned, exiting through the door that Vorscham stood next too.

"'My lady?'" Alicia said, grinning, raising an eyebrow.

"Let's go." Shyvana said softly, pushing past the gunny and the lieutenant. They shared a brief glance and then frowned, following her out.

A cheer went up around the courtyard as Shyvana stepped through the crowds and towards the ring. Soldiers moved to congratulate her and wish her luck, but few ventured within arm's reach. The crowd parted as she moved through, many keeping their distance when they looked at her expression. She stepped down into the ring and quickly looked around, looking for Jarvan.

_Where are you? _The crunch of boots on sand signaled that she was no longer alone within the ring. The footsteps were armored, though the tread was soft and purposeful. Shyvana turned and faced Xin Zhao, holding her head high, steeling her expression. She tightened her fist around her weapons, the leather padded grips creaking ever so slightly as she did.

The king waved his hand and the magicked barriers went up with a hum and a sudden roar that quickly faded to a dull buzz. The blue energy barriers cast an odd light on the crowds beyond, dampening the crowds chatter. A voice boomed beyond the barriers, but Shyvana couldn't make out what was being said. The roar of the crowd beyond the barriers made it clear that the fight was about to begin. Shyvana scanned the crowd, again looking for her prince.

"You look angry." Xin commented with a thin grin on his face, slowly pacing back and forth in the makeshift ring. He frowned slightly as he glared at her, his brow creasing. "It is not wise to fight with a poisoned mind, girl. What bothers you so, that your temper has grown as foul as this?"

"Something is bothering me." Shyvana said, her eye twitching ever so slightly as she shifted in the new armor. She tried to clear the cross expression from her face, but the curious expression that Xin responded with indicated just how badly she had failed in her attempts. She shifted from foot to foot, shivering under his gaze, looking back to the Seneschal. It was heavier than the red armor, but it fit just as well, and the protection it offered was far superior.

"That much was obvious, little girl." Xin said, smirking slightly. "Do your scales of iron not fit well enough? Perhaps you'd like to simply forfeit and we can get this over with..."

"Taunt me all you want." Shyvana growled, taking a leather strap between her teeth as she pulled the strapping tight over her vambrace. "It only makes my flames burn hotter."

"Confidence is good, but over confidence will lead to defeat." Xin said, offering her a smile. Shyvana did not return it, looking to the crowd, scanning it for the prince. _You're late, Jarvan. _Shyvana grimaced as she set her jaw and turned back to Xin for a moment, the man watching her as he paced back and forth. He raised an eyebrow, but Shyvana looked past him, again looking to the crowd for her prince. _If he's not here... something must be wrong._ Shyvana shivered in the cool air. _Did Jormander try something with Jarvan again? I'll rip his throat out if he so much as laid a finger on him..._

"You appear to be leaking." Xin said, pointing towards Shyvana's feet. She raised her hands up in front of her, flames seeping from the armored plates. Every crack oozed orange flames that glowed viciously as she started to move in a circle, around the edge of the arena. Xin stopped his pacing and started to match her, keeping the distance around the circular arena at the longest distance he could. "What drives you to such anger, child?"

"It is my anger at the lack of awareness around me." Shyvana growled, glancing to where the king stood watching from behind the magicked barrier that shimmered blue. "I wish to know where the prince is, yet no one knows, and even fewer seem to care."

"You have more important things to be worried about, girl…" Xin Zhao said, gesturing to the arena around them.

"You may begin!" The announcer shouted. Shyvana looked up, distracted by the voice and the pulse of light that burst from the bottom of the shimmering barrier that signaled the beginning of the battle.

"Like our fight!" Xin's lance came up as he exploded forward, the head of his lance leading his charge as if it had been fired from a ballista. "You should worry for your life, girl!" Xin charged forwards as steam enveloped the arena around him, his spear striking something amid the steam. He tugged the spear, jerking it once, but it was seated firmly in something.

The steam started to clear around him as he gave the spear another tug, a grimace settling on his face as the shape of the armored dragoness faded from the steam, slouched over the head of his spear, low to the ground.

"That was anticlimactic..." Xin murmured. "I expected more." He lowered his stance slightly so he could lever her body about, but the armor creaked as the dragoness shifted. Orange light began to glow as Shyvana pushed herself up, flames seeping from her armor in a terrifying orange haze that enveloped her. Steam rose from the ground around her, and her hair fluttered in the air, billowing about by the shear heat that poured from her body and armor. Shyvana looked up, brilliant orange diamonds glaring at Xin upon fields on obsidian black. Her pale skin was just tinged blue as she stood up, one hand holding the head of Xin's lance just away from her torso. She tugged the lance lightly, startling the seneschal, but he did not release the spear as Shyvana dropped her shoulder, swept the lance aside, and body checked the man driving her shoulder into the man's stomach. Xin stumbled backwards as he retched, struggling to regain his footing as Shyvana stood up right, flames now billowing from her body like a solid cloak. Her eyes were dark and filled with anger.

Xin raised his lance, keeping it between him and Shyvana as he returned to distance, pacing slowly around her as she stood in the middle of the arena.

"You said I should worry about my life…" Shyvana hissed, the flames suddenly burning brighter. "Jarvan is my life."

Xin wiped his chin, the back of his hand coming away smeared with soot. He smiled as he looked to the dragoness. "Only actions truly speak, girl." Xin said looking down at the head of his lance and smiling. The point of his lance was been creased where Shyvana had grabbed it, the ridges of her armored fingers visible in the metal. "Victory calls only to one of us; shall we find out who?"

"You should run, now." Shyvana said softly, the crackle and roar of her flames, nearly drowning out her voice as she took as step forward. Xin did not flinch.

"Death is inevitable, one can only avoid defeat." Xin added, serenely, closing his eyes for a brief moment before he opened them again, resolve steeling his eyes and voice. "It would be a privilege to perish with honor!"

"Then you shall face my fury and die!"

Shyvana exploded forward, a wall of flames in her wake.


	47. Chapter 46: Constantin

Forsythe slowed his horse to ride alongside Jarvan as the prince started to steer his horse into the turn. The towheaded corporal dug into his cloak and produced a crudely drawn map, glancing at it, turning it on its side and then he stuffed it back in his tunic.

"This should be the last turn, Prince." Forsythe growled, pulling his helmet from his belt and slipping it onto his head.

"You expecting trouble?" Jarvan said, his hand tightening around his own lance. The lance was hooked into the stirrup on the horse's right side so he didn't have to support all of it weight with just his arm, and it wouldn't bounce about if he tried to hold it on his shoulder.

"Maybe, sir." Forsythe said, shrugging with some effort between the horse's gallop and his own armor. "I just have a bad feeling about this."

"You seemed distracted earlier." Jarvan said, looking back at Delancey. The sergeant rode next to the Sergeant Major, carrying the prince's standard up right, the simple triangular, pale blue and yellow flag flapping as they rode. "Something happen between you and Del?"

"No sir." Forsythe said, shaking his head. "It was something she mentioned, though." Forsythe frowned. "The day before yesterday, when you and Del stopped by and you asked me to dig up the records on the General's daughter I started looking and found it pretty quickly." Jarvan frowned, but Forsythe looked almost conflicted as he looked at the prince. "Well, Del came back to visit me after she returned you back to your room. I was still doing some searching, and Delancey brought up the research you, that Lee character, and she had done not long after you had returned to Demacia. She was telling me about some of the tampered records you had found and something struck me."

"You saw a parallel with the records I had you just find, didn't you?" Jarvan asked, frustration starting to seep into his voice.

"Yeah." Forsythe said, shaking his head. "I originally found this Steelsword guy by searching for General Lorcan's daughter. From there I traced it back to the marriage records and then I found his personal records from there. They were mostly unremarkable, utterly so, but I dismissed it at the time, I had the info I needed. But when Del was telling me about the records you had searched, I went back and compared them to some of your findings. The registrations and errors from before were exactly the same as Steelsword's, albeit a bit sloppier. Steelsword was registered to have served with a unit that didn't exist, same as all the other falsified records you had found, same unit designations and everything."

"Lorcan said his staff had taken care of Steelsword though." Jarvan said, shaking his head as he tried to piece it together. "That means..."

"There's likely a mole or two in Lorcan's staff." Forsythe said, nodding. "You don't think the general's daughter..."

"I don't know how high this goes." Jarvan said shaking his head again. He grimaced, his hand tightening around the lance as he gritted his teeth in anger. "But I intend to find out. I'm tired of being used as a pawn in other people's games. It's about time I started taking things into my own hands."

Jarvan slowed down as they approached a lone path that stood out from the snow covered road. It had been carved through the underbrush that was gnarled and grown up around edge of the forest. The pine trees were covered in snow and the world around them was covered in ice. Jarvan's horse snorted as he steered it towards the path, tossing its head from side to side, opposing the prince's direction. The other horses started to buck and snort as they tried to turn away.

"Something's spooked the horses." Delancey said, patting her mare as the beast snorted and started to buck. "Whoa, girl... whoa." She tried to push her horse back onto the path but it reared up, neighing and turning away, shaking its head back and forth. Delancey tumbled backwards off the horse, though she landed in the snow as her horse trotted backwards away from the wall of trees, finally calming the down as it trotted to a stop. Delancey sat up, blowing several snow bound locks of hair from her face as she pushed herself up, grumbling quietly. She shot Forsythe a glare to forestall any response he could come up with as she dusted the snow from her person. "They won't go any further..." She reached down and grabbed the standard, pulling it from the snow, but she encountered resistance, the sound of ripping fabric echoing through the quiet forest.

"Aye, no wonder, look." The sergeant major said, nodding, pointing towards the path. Delancey dropped down, holding the standard still, following the fabric to where it had hung. She kneeled and began to dig through the snow, revealing a low lying barbed wire fence. "Someone doesn't like visitors."

"Or someone is expecting us." Delancey said, kneeling down and getting a closer look at the barbed wire. "This is new wire, probably not more than a few weeks." She looked up to Jarvan, the prince looking deeper into the forest. "What do we do, sir?"

"Dismount and lead the horses through the forest." Jarvan said, starting to slide off his massive horse. "We can tie them up on the far side of the forest and continue on if need be." The others nodded and followed suit.

"Got any wire clippers, Forsythe?" Delancey said looking back. The knight nodded as he dropped to the ground, holding both sets of reigns in one gloved hand. He rustled through his satchel for a few seconds and then produced a compact set of wire clippers, tossing them forward. "Thanks." Delancey said as she set about cutting through the wires. "We're clear, sir."

"Good." Jarvan nodded, looking up into the darkened pines. There was an uncomfortable silence that had settled over the forest. He looked down to the ripped standard and shuddered. "We need to move quickly, I don't like the feel of this forest... There is an air of malevolence about it."

"Agreed." The sergeant major growled, his hand resting on his saber as he moved forward, trudging past the sergeant, holding his horse by the reigns. The horse protested but let itself be led into the forest. "The sooner we're out of here, the better."

Forsythe and Delancey nodded as they started into the forest, Delancey following the sergeant major and Forsythe following the prince, turning and walking backwards every once in a while as they pushed deeper and deeper through the ancient forest. There was no wind, the air deathly still. The trees were a pale gray, with deep green needles that looked black as night under the impenetrable canopy that towered above.

Jarvan raised a fist and his unit ground to a halt. Hands hovered on weapons and only the occasional snort of a horse broke the silence.

"What's wrong?" Forsythe whispered softly. There was no wind to carry his whisper, and he craned his neck as he looked to the trees above. "Trouble?"

Jarvan nodded. "We're being followed."

"Sir?" Forsythe said softly, looking again to the trees above. A bird passed along one of the small patches of pale white light from the sky above.

"Quinn!" Jarvan shouted, his brow furrowing as he craned his neck, following the creak of branches above. "Quinn, if that's you, come out!"

A distant thump in the forest cause Forsythe, Delancey and the sergeant major to turn and step forward. They raised weapons, the sound of cold steel ringing in the forest. The crunch of snow starting to break the perfect silence. A bird swooped down through the forest cover, screeching violently as is wove through the trees it passed over Jarvan's head, headed for a darkened figure that was fading out of the dim light. The bird settled on an outstretched arm as Quinn stepped out of the darkness.

Delancey dropped low, holding her weapon out in front of her. "Identify yourself!"

"Easy, Del." Jarvan said, waving the sergeant back. "She's a friend." Delancey looked angry, but Forsythe set a hand on her shoulder and tugged on her arm gently. Delancey looked to the prince and then scowled, sheathing her sword with a sigh.

"How did you know it was me?" Quinn said aloud, grinning.

"Valor gave you away." Jarvan said, turning back to his horse and exhaling softly. His heart was pounding in his chest. This terrain would make for a perfect ambush. "There are few other birds who would brave this weather."

"True." Quinn said, smiling as she scratched the eagle under the beak. The blue eagle ruffled its feathers hooting. She looked back to the prince, her brow darkening as she looked over her shoulder. "You're being followed."

"I thought so." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "How many?"

"Two that I know of... Valor." Quinn whispered, her hand hovering over her crossbow for a few moments before she turned back to the prince, tossing Valor into the air, the eagle shooting up into the air and disappearing into the canopy. Quinn shivered, watching the eagle climb away before she turned back to the prince. "They started following you just after you left the city walls. They're keeping their distance though." She shrugged, looking back to the prince. "And here I thought you had forgotten about me."

"Not likely." Jarvan said, looking behind him and then back to his men as they continued to watch their surroundings. They were all on edge.

"How're you doing, Forsythe?" Quinn said as she stepped up to the young soldier, grinning as she looked up at him. "It's been a while... taking care of your scar?"

The young man blushed but nodded, grinning. "It's good to see you, Quinn."

"We're wasting time." Delancey snapped, glaring at Quinn and Forsythe. The young soldier nodded sheepishly, though Quinn looked surprised.

"You're that brutish little girl who attacked Forsythe in the hospital, aren't you?" Quinn said with a smirk, watching as Delancey went red in the face.

"Delancey is right." Jarvan said, sensing the tension starting to build between the two young women. "We need to move."

"Sir." Delancey hissed softly, though she watched the tracker with distrust.

The rest of the journey through the forest proceeded in silence.

When the forest finally opened up again, the clearing that was lain out in front of the Demacians was almost picturesque. A large, ice covered pond was spread out over the majority of the clearing, though a small, homely looking hovel sat off to one side of the body of water. Smoke drifted skyward from the house and another out building.

"Quaint." The sergeant major quipped as he tied his horse off to a tree. He accepted the lead for the prince's horse as well and tied it off on the same tree while Delancey and Forsythe did the same. Quinn had moved ahead towards the pond, kneeling over the edge of it. She reached out and knocked on it. The ice pinged slightly as it settled when she stepped onto it.

"Who goes there!?" A man of slight stature and thinning hair stepped from the outbuilding clutching a sword in one hand and a torch in the other He ducked his head, wearing a darkened and sooty leather apron. He raised his sword up higher, pointing it towards the prince and waving his torch across his body. "Who are you!? Don't come any further!"

Jarvan waved his men down, most of them having drawn weapons and turned to the new threat. The prince took a deep breath as he lowered his own lance, raising a hand to show he meant no harm.

"Are you Constantin?" Jarvan asked officiously, watching the man's face twitch at the question.

"Who are and what do you want?" The man snapped, raising his sword back up from where it had slackened at his side. "What brings you military types out here?" He frowned, looking to the standard that Delancey carried and the uniforms the others wore.

"I wish to inquire about your work." Jarvan said evenly, his brow creasing slightly. "I'm here on official business."

"I don't do work for the military." Constantin growled, casting nervous glances back towards where Quinn had come around the corner of the out building. His eyes went wild for a moment, but as Jarvan waved her down as her hand went to her weapon, she nodded and approached the prince. The man ran a hand over his face and exhaled softly. "I stopped doing work for the army years ago, and I don't do commission work except for the highest bidders. You look like you might have enough money, though..." He stroked his chin slightly, the wispy hairs poofing up every time he ran his hands over them.

"I work for Holven Lorcan." Jarvan said evenly. "I just have a few questions." The man's eyes went wide and he immediately bowed.

"Excuse me, sir! W-why didn't you say..." The man stammered, sheathing the blade and lowering the torch. He narrowed his eyes and glared at the prince before his eyes went wide again. "Prince Jarvan!?" He bowed quickly. "I didn't mean any offense, your highness, we just don't, ah... we don't get visitors out here..."

"It's fine." Jarvan said, shaking his head, offering the man an easy smile. "I wished to ask you about some blades that you made, if you would."

"Yes, yes, of course." Constantin said, waving the prince forward, towards the outbuilding. "If you and your _friends _want to step into my forge and out of the cold..."

"I shall decline." The sergeant major said, nodding his head. "I'll stand guard here with the sergeant." Delancey looked slightly angry but she nodded, keeping her hand upon her sword and turning back towards the forest.

"I don't like the lack of vision." Delancey muttered. "Quinn, right?" She looked to the tracker where she had sat on a low stone wall and started adjusting her crossbow. Quinn looked up and nodded, tucking a small knife away in a pocket on her hardened leather armor. She pulled herself up to her feet and looked around.

"I'll take the high ground, yes?" Quinn said, nodding at Delancey and then looking to the prince. Jarvan had stopped in the doorway to the forge, Forsythe standing next to him and looking back over his shoulder back at Del. Jarvan nodded and disappeared into the forge. Quinn clambered up onto the roof of the forge and disappeared over the edge of the roof. The tree beyond shivered as she started climbing.

"Yeah." Delancey muttered. "You do that."

Jarvan looked around the inside of the outbuilding.

The room was dark, only the soft orange glow of one of the furnaces on the far side of the room lighting the walls. The room was dirty, with darkened sheets of metal and tools laying everywhere, a layer of dust and soot coating everything. An anvil sat in the center of the room, a hammer laying atop it. Gas lights flickered on, and though it fought back some of the gloom of the room, it only served to reveal just how dirty the forge was.

_This doesn't look like somewhere that could produce a high quality blade like those in the general's office._ Jarvan looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of glimmering steel, even the blue shimmer of a single tool that could have served as a lead to the weapons he had found.

"So, what can I do for the general?" Constantin said, leaning up against the anvil and putting on a frown. "You are a courier for him, correct? I didn't think there was anything else than needed to be said after I last talked to him."

"You are the general's son in law, Constantin Steelsword, correct?" Jarvan asked, leaning his lance against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, what of it?" The man said testily.

"Where is your wife, the general's daughter?" Jarvan asked, looking around.

"She's visiting family with the city." Steelsword said with a frown. "So what?" Jarvan frowned, looking at the weapons around the shop.

"Tell me, did you make this blade?" Jarvan said, drawing out the blade the sergeant major had secreted from General Lorcan's office. The man frowned slightly, looking down at the weapon, accepting it from the prince to examine it. He held it up to the light, frowning slightly as he peered at it.

"It looks like one of a set I made for General Lorcan when I wed his daughter." The man growled. He picked up a pair of glasses that hung from a beam that ran across the ceiling and slipped them onto his face, peering closer at the blade. "This is definitely a blade I made though, the pattern of colors is a unique layering of dissimilar metals fired together to form a single blade. It's unmistakably my blade."

"How about this blade then?" Jarvan said, pulling out a dagger of similar appearance. Jarvan handed it over to the blacksmith and stood back, waiting for his word.

"Hmm..." The blacksmith flipped a second lens down in front of his right eye, looking closer at the blade. "It kind of looks like one of mine, but the colors aren't right." He pushed the glasses up on top of his head. "You see this band of white next to the band of blue? There should be a band of silver between them."

"I'll take your word for it." Jarvan said, frowning. "So it was meant to look like a fake, then? A counterfeit of sorts?"

"Yes." The man said, setting the second blade down on the workbench next to the first. "A well done fake, yes, but it's the little details that the smithy missed. Like the specific order of my colors, and the fact that I never include such gaudy badging as the second one. Whoever forged this knew of my work but had never seen it before, would be my guess."

"I see." Jarvan said softly, frowning. _So someone wanted to send me here. _Jarvan's blood ran cold. _They're not hunting me... they're hunting the smithy and I led them right to him._

"I have one last question for you." Jarvan said stiffly as he drew the last blade he carried, carefully unwrapped it. He handed it over to the smithy. "Did you make this one as well?"

The smithy flipped his glasses back down and looked at it closely, looking at the material. "Possibly. Same color patterns, no badging... it's definitely..." His voice cut off abruptly and his eyes grow wide. He dropped the blade down on the table and stepped away, making a big show of dipping his hands in a barrel of water and wiping them on a dirty rag, dirtying them again. "It's not one of mine. A fake again."

"You hesitated." Jarvan growled menacingly. "Who did you make this blade for, Constantin?"

"No one!" The man snarled angrily. "I told you, it's not one of mine! Never seen it before in my life!"

Jarvan slammed a hand down on the table and snarled angrily. "Don't lie to me! You made this blade for an assassin hiding within Demacia! Tell me who it is!" Jarvan glared at the man, fury burning in his eyes. He stepped back from the man letting him and squirm in the awkward silence that filled the void. "We know you're a Noxian Defector, Constantin. We know that is not your last name as well, and we don't care. All I want it to know who you gave this blade to."

"I told you I didn't make the blade!" The man slammed his hand down next to the blade bouncing it to the ground. He screwed his face up and then sighed, running a hand over his face, again wiping soot and dirt over his cheeks. "I did come from Noxus, aye, but I didn't... I didn't make that damnable blade! It's not something from my forge!"

"Then who made it!" Jarvan growled menacingly. "This blade just didn't pop up, and it's not on any records within the Merchant Guild weapon registry. Which means you either made it for someone off the record, or you gave it to someone, at some point, and they used it to kill a Noxian Assassin within the city walls."

"This blade killed a Noxian assassin?" The man said softly, reconsidering it. He picked it up from the ground and frowned. "It... It could be one of mine I suppose. I made lots of daggers like these in the past."

"Then why would someone use it to lead me to you!" Jarvan snapped, his frustration mounting. "Why would someone want you to be found? Why would..." Jarvan frowned for a moment and then snarled incoherently.

"You've been spending too much time with Shy, sir." Forsythe said exhaling sharply from where he leaned up against the wall. "What now?"

"It wasn't the blade's wielder who was trying to lead me to the smithy." Jarvan said softly. "Someone knew the man who carried this blade possessed it. They forced him to use it, and then left it for me to find..."

"But why do that?" The smithy stammered. "I'm just a simple smithy, I don't know anything..."

"You obviously know something." Jarvan growled, frowning.

"What are you thinking, Jarvan?" Forsythe asked from near the doorway.

"What if..." Jarvan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What if they knew the spy was carrying the knife. A memento from the past or something similar. They can't deal with spy, they can't draw him out because he's gone into hiding."

"Lee." Forsythe said, his eyes widening. "They attack you to draw out Lee. They must have had a rough idea of where he was, and they realized that he wouldn't let any harm come to Jarvan because of what happened when they attacked you in the palace."

"So to draw him out, they force him to use the weapon." Jarvan said softly. "They know that if they can bring the weapon into play, I'll follow the weapon to its source, here in the forge."

"They want the smithy to use as leverage." Forsythe grunted, shaking his head.

"More likely they wanted to get me out of the city to force Lee into the open as well." Jarvan said softly, shaking his head. "Two birds with one stone. They take me out and they take Lee out." He opened his eyes, turning his glare back to the smithy. "You have to tell me who this blade belonged to." Jarvan growled, his eyes deathly intense. "Your life, my life... the life of my men, it all depends on your telling me who it belonged to! Now speak!"

"I told you, I don't know" The smithy stammered, taking a step back. Jarvan grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up to eye level, keeping him barely a few inch away from him, nose to nose.

"Tell me!" Jarvan snarled. "I don't have time for your nonsense!"

"Jarvan, he can't breathe!" Forsythe grabbed his arm and the prince dropped the man, turning away and grunting angrily. Forsythe looked down at the man as he coughed, holding his neck as he sucked air in greedily. "You'd better answer him, Steelsword. I don't know if I'll be able to stop him next time."

"It's too late." Jarvan growled softly. "We're not alone anymore."

"What?" Forsythe looked to the door. "What do you mean we're not alon-..."

A scream from outside cut the man off.

"Del!" Forsythe shouted, turning to the door and throwing it open, he dashed into the clearing of the forest and froze. Looking down at Delancey where she lay on the ground. Sergeant Major Perrywinkle stood over her, imposing himself between the distant forest tree line and Delancey. A few thin rivulets of blood dribbled from her shoulder, a long, thin rod of black ice jutting from her shoulder. She tried to grip the bolt, but she screamed again, releasing it and waving her hand about as if she had been burned. She sank back to the ground, writhing in pain, panting desperately. "Del!" Forsythe dropped down next to her, lifting her up into his lap. "Del, what happened?"

Jarvan exhaled sharply. "Stay on guard, men."

"What's going on?" The old man stepped out of the shack and then gasped as cloak figures dropped from trees and emerged from the shadows. "Who are you!?" He looked to Jarvan and frowned. "Friends of yours?"

"No." Jarvan murmured softly. "They're a Noxian Death squad."

"What?!" Forsythe and the old man snapped together, glaring up at the prince.

"I had a bolt just like this in my shoulder." Jarvan said softly, looking at the bolt that had been sunk into Delancey's shoulder. He frowned as he turned back to the men that slowly approached. They wore oily black cloaks that snow clung to and looked of ice and damp fabric. "Is this all of you?" Jarvan said, looking around the group of men that now formed a loose circle around the clearing. "I expected more of you assholes, to be honest."

"You're a funny man, Prince Jarvan IV." The man at the center of the rough circle said aloud, stepping forward and performing a mock bow. "Unfortunate really, your sense of humor is wasted on present company. However, it is fortunate that our target isn't with you. Odd, considering he is supposed to work for you, but I suppose we'll have to make do with the smithy. Be smart and leave now. We have no interest in you any longer."

"Oh?" Jarvan shrugged. "Big talk coming from the man who brought seventeen men to kill one little old man." He set his lance firmly beside him, setting his stance confidently, defiantly as he glared at the men who now opposed him. _He said the target wasn't with us… could he mean Shyvana?_

"Well it seems you've made up your mind." The man said, his voice suddenly going cold. "Pardon me if I offer you no pity. Besides, we don't mean to kill him, not if we can't help it. We just want to capture him, we need answers first. But since you chose to defy us, it seems things are going to end poorly for you as well. You know too much, boy. People want you dead, though as fortune would seem, we've been given order not to deal with you if you try to oppose us, but just imagine the praise I would get if I were to bring back the head of the last prince of Demacia... They would sing my praises from every hall in Noxus. Lambert the destroyer they shall call me... However, if you simply hand the old man over, you and your friends will be spared any and all pain and allowed to go on your merry way." A cruel smile spread over his face. "But, oh how unfortunate. It seems you have learned my name. I can't just let you escape now that I can be tied back this little fiasco. My apologies." He bowed in a mocking fashion as his voice chimed a sing-song tone.

Jarvan set his jaw and grimaced. "Bastard, you intended it this way, didn't you." The man smiled, but the gesture was cold and cruel. "Answer me this then: who ordered this kill? What do you want with Shyvana!?"

Lambert tossed his head back and bellowed a great laugh. "Your little bitch of a girlfriend? We have no interest in her."

"Then who are you tracking down?" Jarvan snarled. "What do you want!?"

Lambert grinned, chuckling softly this time. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Tell me!" Jarvan shouted, his hand flexing around the barrel of his lance.

"You're not in a position to be asking, much less demanding things." The Noxian officer said nonchalantly, raising his weapon and leveling the crossbow at Jarvan. He pivoted slightly, aiming just behind Jarvan. "Ready your weapons, men."

Crossbows came up all around the circle, pointed at the little man at the center of the group. He sank back several steps. "W-w-what do you want with me?"

"I want you to die." Lambert hissed, ice cold. "But unfortunately, I have to bring you in to ask you some questions. Everyone else, not so much." He took aim and let a bolt fly, the crossbow humming as it snapped taut. A wave of bolts took to the air, descending towards the smithy, each whistling in the air.

Jarvan jumped in front of the man and clenched his fist, wisps of blue light dancing around him. His hair billowed briefly as a massive golden bubble formed around him. Jarvan snarled as he reached out, extending the shimmering golden barrier beyond him to encircle the others who were spread out around him. The warm golden globe hummed and shimmered, vibrating and pulsing softly as it enveloped the Sergeant Major, Delancey, Forsythe and the blacksmith. The shield shimmered and seized as the bolts struck and bounced away. Jarvan snarled and gritted his teeth, sending out of a wave of power that struck the others, crashing into them like the wave of the ocean. They crashed backwards, stumbling and struggling to regain their footing and firing stances, but their movements seemed slowed, as if they had been dazed by the shield.

"The shield of Demacia's kings... the Golden Aegis..." The smithy whispered as he watched the shield shimmer and evaporate. The blue wisps danced about Jarvan for a brief moment, slowly fading and dissipating. A chorus of tightening bow strings and primed trigger locks could be heard.

A smile spread over Lambert's face. "Welcome, Prince Jarvan, to your doom."


	48. Chapter 47: Desperation

"I had only heard stories of the impenetrable shield of the kings. If that is so... then you're really the prince..." Constantin Steelsword stammered from where he had fallen to the ground. "What are you... why are you protecting me?"

"This isn't for you." Jarvan wheezed through gritted teeth as he dropped to one knee, a hand gripping his chest. He kneeled over Delancey, propping himself up with his lance, hanging on it heavily. Jarvan watched as men struggled to their feet slowly, crossbow bolts spread out around his men like a sickened blue garden of roses.

"Prince..." Delancey said weakly, looking up at him. Her eyes went wide with shock as blood dripped down onto her chest. She reached up with her good arm, stopping the rivulets of blood that leaked from one of Jarvan's nostrils. She pulled her hand away and looked at it in disbelief. "You're... injured…?" Jarvan wiped the blood away as he hauled himself to his feet.

"Let me take a look at it..." Quinn said, fishing on her belt for something to deal with it, starting towards the prince, but he waved her off.

"We have no time." Jarvan growled, his voice almost distant. "Forsythe! Move Del and the smithy into the forge! Sergeant Major get ready to charge!"

"Sir?" Forsythe stammered, looking from Del to Jarvan, a mix of outrage and fear on his face. "You can't hope to take them all on..."

"I don't have any choice." Jarvan growled, pulling his lance from the ground as he stepped over the sergeant. "I've faced down worse threats before. Take care of Del, Forsythe." Forsythe watched the prince with a frown, but his frown turned back to the girl in his arms when she moaned softly.

"How's the arm, Del?" Forsythe said, looking down at the young woman as she pushed herself up against the edge of the building, pain etched into her face as she whimpered slightly. The massive black crossbow bolt jutted from her shoulder at an odd angle, the eerie blue mist dripping from it like a malicious, poisonous mist. Delancey grasped at her arm just above the elbow, blood dripping from her shoulder.

"It's cold." Delancey said softly, her voice wavering. The crooked grin she wore was fitting with the messy blue hair, though her eyes seemed a bit dimmer than normal behind her half closed lids. The deep red of the blood that cover her chest and stomach and the pale expression on her face left her looking out of character. Forsythe gave her leg a squeeze and a fleeting smile.

"Hang in there." He said softly, encouragingly. "Del's not looking so good, Jarvan. I don't like this thing stuck in her shoulder."

"Just leave it!" Jarvan snarled, sliding to cover as a bolt flew overhead, exploding on the wall of the Forge. He grunted as he hit the ground, ducking behind the waist-high rise that ran in a loose semi-circle in front of the house and along the front of the forge. Snow splattered, exploding up around him from the other side of the bank as the flurry of bolts struck the ground. "We don't have time for this!"

"Like hell!" Forsythe snarled, glaring at Jarvan. "I'm going to remove this thing, keep us covered!"

"Forsythe! Leave it for now." Jarvan growled, watching as several soldiers spread out around him and Quinn. "We can't clean it properly here." More bolts struck the bank as he started to push himself up to look over. "We're going to get pinned down, Forsythe! Just leave her and get out here!"

"Fuck that!" Forsythe snarled back fiercely. Jarvan quickly looked over his shoulder and met Forsythe's intense eyes glaring back at him. "Would you leave Shyvana if she were injured like this?" The prince sighed and turned away, looking back over his shoulder. "The effects are spreading towards her heart and she starting to fade. If I don't remove it now, she's going to die!" Jarvan glared at the corporal. "Are you really going to let her die, Jarvan!?"

"No." Jarvan muttered, shaking his head sharply. "Do what you want, just make sure she's stabilized and then get up here. There are a lot of bad guys. Quinn, give him a hand." The tracker dropped down behind the bank, sliding down to the ground and looked from Jarvan back to Forsythe and and went to his side. She frowned, looking over the wound.

"Jarvan, I've never seen a wound like this, I don't think I'd be of any use…" Quinn said softly.

"Go, keep Jarvan out of trouble, Quinn, I've got this." Forsythe grumbled as he set about checking Delancey's wounds and trying to make her as comfortable as he could as quickly as he could. "Sorry, babe, this might hurt a bit..." Quinn patted Forsythe on the shoulder and then scrambled out the door, back against the bank.

"Here..." Steelsword said, handing Forsythe a heavy pair of smithing gloves and a heavy pair of tongs. "These should help." Forsythe nodded his thanks, pulling the gloves on over his gauntlets, the massive gloves barely fitting. He picked up the tongs in one free hand, moving towards the downed sergeant.

"What are you going to do?" Delancey said, opening her eyes just enough to see the corporal standing over her. She groaned as Forsythe wrapped a rag around the base of the crossbow bolt and kneeled down over her. "Sorry, I'm not up to giving you one right now, maybe later?" Delancey tried to laugh, but the ragged cough ruined her joking tone.

"This can't wait." Forsythe cooed softly. "Just bear with it for now."

"Please be gentle." Delancey said demurely, trying to laugh again. She winced, trying to sink back away from Forsythe. "It hurts to laugh..."

Quinn shook her head from outside, sighing, glancing at Jarvan. "Are they always like this?"

Jarvan sighed and rolled his eyes. "Just about. Get ready to flank left. I'm going to charge as soon as she screams. They should be distracted just long enough that I can break through the barrage and engage. Argus, I want you with me, pick up after me, alright?"

"I've got your back, sir." The sergeant major said, looking around the edge of the outbuilding he had pushed himself up against.

"You sweep into the hole I create, Quinn you mop anyone up you can." Jarvan took a deep breath and looked to Forsythe, nodding once. "Whenever you're ready, Forsythe."

Forsythe nodded, turning to Delancey and resting a hand over her chest and shoulder, putting the bolt between his index and thumb. The flesh was chilled to the touch. "Ready?" Forsythe said hesitantly. "On three... One..."

"Wait... on three?" Delancey murmured, a faint smile playing over her face. "Or on go?"

"Three." Forsythe said, grinning, brushing hair from her face, smiling at the sergeant. "One!" He grabbed the bot and ripped it free.

Delancey screamed in pain, her body writhing and bucking as Forsythe snarled and tossed the bolt away, the glove smoking.

"Now!" Jarvan bellowed, scrambling up the bank. He slammed the butt of his lance down onto the ground as he leaped forward off the top of the bank, sending a standard arcing through the air. It landed atop one of the cloaked men, cutting through his leg as he scrambled to get out of the way. He screamed in terror, clutching at the stump of a limb as he rolled in the muddy snow. Jarvan slapped the trigger of his lance as he hit the ground in a slide, extending the tip, the force of the explosive extension grinding him to a halt. Jarvan impaled a second man, snarling as he swung the lance and knocked a third man down. He hooked a barb of the lance's tip on the standard and slapped the trigger again, the lance retracting and ripping the prince from where he kneeled. Jarvan ripped his lance free from the standard while he was still midair, wheeling his arms about as the lance finished retracting, using the force of the weapon to cartwheel the lance about and bring it down in front of him and striking a soldier in the gut as he landed. The man exploded into a fine red mist, as a shock wave echoed through the forest, the trees shivering and snow drifting to the ground from the canopy above.

Men in black stood, stunned in sheer terror, as Jarvan extracted his bloodied lance, spinning it in a flourish to cast the guts aside and then dropping his shoulder to charge another soldier. Jarvan clobbered the man as he tried to roll out of the way, catching the man's ankle with one of the spikes on his pauldron, blood splattering the prince's face and sending the man cartwheeling to the ground. Jarvan swept his lance down across his throat, ending the man's pained cries as he clutched at his mangled ankle.

Sergeant Major Perrywinkle lashed out and caught one soldier on the arm, just below his elbow, sending a hand flying to the ground. It landed atop join another man in black who was lain out, blood pouring from under his hands clutched over his throat. The disarmed man stumbled backwards, clutching at the bloody stump as blood poured from the arm. The sergeant major raised a boot and caught the man high on the chest, sending him crashing backwards into two of his mates, but the snow under foot sent the Sergeant Major sprawling and cursing to the ground. Men started to swarm forward in a maddened charge, their brethren laying bloody and wounded around them.

"Fall back!" Jarvan bellowed, setting his feet as he watched crossbows come up around him. Jarvan gritted his teeth as he felt the energy pour through him, the golden barrier erupting around him. He felt his chest ache and his arm felt numb, but he held the shimmering golden barrier up as he backed away. He reach down and scooped the sergeant major up off the ground, the man cursing and snarling as he got to his feet. He hobbled, barking in pain between words of ill-repute, hopping towards the embankment with the prince's help.

"Fuck this." The sergeant major dove over the bank and slid to a stop at the bottom, spinning and pressing his back to the ground, looking down at his ankle with a pale face, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Jarvan let the salvo of bolts strike and bounce away before dropping the barrier and then limping over the bank. He collapsed against the snow, clutching at his chest and breathing sharply. Two men came up over the rise above him as he just started to turn. The prince snarled, bringing his weapon to bear, but he could feel their crossbows trained on his chest.

"Get him, Valor!" Quinn barreled over the first man, striking his chin with a knee as she practically tossed the eagle at the second man. "Gouge out his eyes!"

Valor screamed as he bore massive talons, clawing out the man's eyes, blinding him, sending the man tumbling backwards over the wall. Quinn leaped upwards off the man she had kneed as he arced backwards, bringing her crossbow up and putting a burst of three bolts into his chest as she hung in the middle of the air. Quinn landed gracefully, turned instantly and put two more bolts into the man who was flailing his arms, trying to beat off the Demacian Eagle. Valor screeched and climbed away, dodging a wildly fired bolt as he fought for altitude.

Quinn dropped down next to the prince, grinning. "You need to watch yourself, prince." Quinn quipped. "You're getting sloppy."

"Yeah, and you're late." Jarvan muttered between breaths. "Forsythe, we're starting to run out of space out here!"

"Del's not getting any better." Forsythe snarled, moving towards the door, and looking out at the prince. He flinched as a crossbow bolt struck the stone building, the stone reverberating slightly above him. "She's barely with us right now..." He looked into the room and gritted his teeth. "I don't think she's going to make it if we don't get her medical treatment!"

"Fuck." Jarvan hissed. "Quinn, do you think you could do anything?"

"I doubt it." She said, shaking her head with a frown. "All I have is a few health potions. Would that help?" Forsythe nodded and Quinn pulled a small crystal vial filled with a ruby liquid, tossing it to the corporal. He disappeared into the forge. Quinn peaked over the edge of the embankment and fired off two shots to keep the men at bay before she was answered with a hail of arrows, a grin on her face as she ducked down next to the prince. "Besides, I can't leave you out here with these assholes, now can I?"

"If I can get her to the horses and we can distract the enemies long enough I think we can get her clear of the danger." Forsythe said from within, pushing himself up just high enough to look over the embankment. A faint green glean could be seen shimmering against the walls within.

"She can't even stand, how is she going to make it to the castle?" Jarvan snarled back.

"I'll take her." The sergeant major growled. "I think my ankle is shot anyways..." His armored boot had been twisted at a sickly angle and blood leaked from beneath the armored plates. "I'm no good here, but I can still ride."

"They'll never let you get to the tree line, though..." Jarvan protested.

"I can keep them suppressed." Quinn said, grinning. "Valor can blind a few if they group up and I can pick off any stragglers." She stuck her head over the rise and fired off a wild shot.

"They're too well organized to stay down long enough for Forsythe to get them mounted and to the tree line. Besides, we couldn't stand in the open long enough to get Del and the sergeant major on a damn horse. It'd be suicide."

"Take one of mine!" The blacksmith piped up, sticking his head out the door. "The black mare. She's fast. Take her. She's in the barn behind the forge!"

"But..." Jarvan set his jaw and shook his head. "Fine, Forsythe, get them to the barn and get them mounted. Quinn and I will buy you enough time to get set. Soon as you're mounted, let me know and we'll clear a path for you."

"On it!" Forsythe barked, grinning bravely as she scooped up the small sergeant in his arms and ducked low, moving around the building. The sergeant major glanced at Jarvan and nodded, dropping off the embankment. He stood up, and looked over the top, a crossbow bolt striking the forge behind him, exploding into shards. The smithy dived to the ground, covering his head.

"Can't do nothing down there, sonny." The sergeant major growled, kicking the smithy with his boot.

"Sir, I'm a noncombatant." Constantin said, looking up and over his shoulder as the sergeant major hobbled across to slump against the forge, glancing nervously towards the embankment as another crossbow bolt struck, sending a splattering of mud crashing down over them.

"Ain't no such thing today, boy." The sergeant major grabbed the smithy by the collar and pulled him up, the smithy still looking around nervously.

"Fine, this way, hurry, hurry." The blacksmith said, ducking out of the forge and moving around the building. "The stable is on the back of the building. We should be safe while we mount if the prince can keep their focus up here."

"Don't do anything stupid." The sergeant major growled. "I'll be back, soon. I'll kick your father's ass if I have to."

"Here." Jarvan muttered, grunting a muted chuckle, fishing something out of his tunic. He held up a small golden coin and then handed it over to the sergeant major. "Just show my father this. He'll come."

"But sire..." The sergeant major said softly. "This is..."

"They can't prove anything without it." Jarvan said with a grin. "I'm of no use to them if they can't."

"Yes, but..." The sergeant major growled softly, shaking his head.

"We'll be fine! Now go!" Jarvan hissed. The sergeant major looked cross, but nodded, tucking the coin in his pocket and following the smithy and Forsythe around the building, crawling behind the embankment to stay behind cover.

"How exactly do you plan on distracting the remaining men?" Quinn asked nonchalantly, firing off a wild bolt. "They won't scatter like the last time you charged. Their leader is getting quicker about reacting to what wildcards we have to throw at them..."

"Then we simply cut the head off the snake." Jarvan snapped, impatiently. He tightened a hand around the lance, taking a deep breath. "I can isolate the leader and deal with him. You scatter the trash and keep them panicked with their heads down when the sergeant major and Del make their break for it, okay? Once they're gone and we've thinned their ranks a bit more, we can regroup and reset."

"I suppose that's workable." Quinn said, frowning. "I don't like going up against what, nine, ten men alone though..."

"You won't be alone." Forsythe said, sliding down to a stop at the base of the embankment, an eager grin on his face. "I got your back, Quinn. Just like old times." A flicker of a smile lightened the rangers face for a few brief moments.

"Aren't most of your weapons still with the horses?" The ranger asked, raising an eyebrow. There was a moment of defeat on the corporal's face but he shrugged, raising a weapon in one hand and hefting a rock in the other.

"You're kidding, right?" Jarvan muttered, deadpan. "That's a woodsman's ax and a bloody _rock!_"

"You let me worry about that, alright?" Forsythe said with a vicious grin. He hefted the rock, tossing it up and down several times, catching it in his palm. He spun the axe about his left hand, grinning crookedly as the weapon twirled about his thumb, a flash of brilliant, razor sharp steel glimmering in the dull, mid-morning light. Thin ribbons of blue color shown in the head as he examined the weapon with a thin grin on his face. Jarvan fit him with a frown, but the gleeful excitement on Forsythe's face caused Jarvan to scowl.

"As long as you've got my back, Forsythe." Jarvan examined the barrel of his lance, checking the standards within.

"Always, sir." Forsythe said, patting his shield with the head of the axe.

"You're both mad..." Quinn said, shaking her head. "They're well outside your engagement range, prince. You'll get slaughtered before you even get close... you won't even get half way there."

"I've got an idea…" The prince frowned as he looked around, his eyes settling on the corporal's shield. "But maybe not crazy enough..." Jarvan murmured, a wild eyed grin forming on his face. "Forsythe, gimme your shield."

"You... you're not planning what I think you are... are you?" Forsythe's eyes went wide as he handed it over, his grin growing wider. "You _are_ planning what I think you are!"

"I'll take care of myself, don't you worry." Jarvan said, accepting the heater shield and attaching it to his arm. He slid his hand into the enarmes, flexing his hand to ensure it was in the proper position. He looked to the building behind them. "How much longer?"

"We're ready to go!" The blacksmith shouted, sticking his head around the corner. "Just say the—..." His voice cut off abruptly, interrupted by a splash of water and mud and the thump of something heavy hitting the ground.

"Wha..." Forsythe spun and watched as the man tumbled to the ground from the around the corner of the building, his chest slowly turning red, blood spreading across his chest. Constantin looked down at his chest as he exhaled softly, rolling onto his back. Two large black bolts protruded from his chest.

"Run, you fools..." The man spoke with his last breath, his head collapsing back onto the ground. Jarvan looked at the man, dead on the ground for a moment before his eyes flew open wider.

"FUCK! Go! Now!" Jarvan exploded upwards, spinning as he slammed his lance into the ground and sending the last of his standards flying through the air. It landed well short of the leader of the men in black, Lambert. He chuckled, watching as Jarvan mounted the top of the rise, wearing an unimpressed looking grin.

"What are you going to do, prince!" The man spat, shrugging as he gestured to his men, their weapon's rising up. "Surrender and I'll make your death swift!"

Jarvan hooked the tip of the lance on the standard and slapped the trigger, sending him skidding forward. Jarvan sliced the enarmes free and cast the shield onto the ground and caught it with his foot, sliding along the snow as he accelerated, the lance nearly ripping his arm out of his socket. Jarvan snagged the standard as he raced past as he skimmed over a sheet of ice, striking a sharp incline. "DEMACIA!" Jarvan shouted his battle cry as he arced through the air towards Lambert and Jarvan threw the standard like a spear, the flag just brushing Lambert's face as it impaled his lieutenant.

"What the fuck?!" Lambert snarled as he spun and tried to scramble away. Jarvan brought his lance down with such force that the ground shuddered beneath his feet, sharp spikes of rock and ice jutting up around him in a circle, entrapping him in the arena. Jarvan spun as he came up, ripping his lance from the ground and letting the tip arc up and slice the impaled soldier from thigh to shoulder.

Jarvan gripped his chest, planting his lance and leaning on it heavily as he sucked in greedy breaths of air, panting hard.

Lambert looked at the sheer rock wall and then his lieutenant as he blanked for a moment. He slowly turned and faced Jarvan, struggling to regain his composure. "You've got me trapped. Well done. Now what?"

"I kill you." Jarvan grunted, starting forward, starting to bring his lance up. The leader grinned viciously, tossing his crossbow aside and producing a sword that hissed as he drew it from his sheath. It hummed and glowed with a red sheen, its thirst for blood visible in the cast of the steel of the blade. He charged forward and Jarvan swept into the arc of his charge, dodging the thrust of the serrated blade. The man slid back and spun, bringing the sword up across his body and then back down, catching Jarvan in the thigh, gashing the prince and sending him sprawling backwards. The sword seemed to howl in excitement as blood dripped from the blade. Jarvan collapsed backwards against the wall of his arena, his free hand straying to the wound on his leg. He stole a look down at his wound, keeping his hand up and aimed directly at Lambert. The sword had caught him just inside his armored tassets, and though it had missed the artery, Jarvan dropped to one knee, gasping in pain. Blood ran freely down his leg.

"You're foolish to think me easy prey if cornered." Lambert chuckled as he danced backwards and then forwards again, spreading the prince's blood across the snow with a flick of his sword. Jarvan snarled, swinging his lance in a broad stroke as he launched himself forward, but the man simply chuckled, parried the heavy strike, and used the force of the parry to bring his sword down and around to slice at Jarvan's other leg. The prince spun his lance, using the barrel to block the second strike, levering the man's force to swing his lance down in a rapid counterattack. Jarvan stepped into the strike, but the wounded leg buckled from underneath him. Lambert ducked the prince's riposte, sliding through his guard and drove his blade into the prince's shoulder, driving the prince back against the wall. Jarvan snarled in pain. "You're slow, Prince Jarvan. Your charge is dead, your men scattered and you're barely able to stand. Do yourself a favor and give up!" Lambert worked the blade about in Jarvan's shoulder, the prince gritting his teeth for the first moment before he finally let out a pained cry. Lambert's smile grew as he leaned more heavily on the blade, driving it deeper through Jarvan's shoulder. "Well? Beg for it and I may spare you a few moments misery!"

"Bite me!" Jarvan snarled, pushing forward, grabbing the man's hand on guard and pulling it to his chest. Jarvan swung his fist, catching Lambert on the chin with a wild haymaker, sending the man flailing backwards, ripping the sword from the prince's shoulder. Lambert snarled as he wiped blood from his split lip, raising his guard and charging the prince. Jarvan grabbed his lance and brought it up, catching Lambert's sword and knocking it out of his way. Jarvan wheeled and brought the lance across Lambert's chest, his eyes bulging in surprise as he danced backward, just barely dodging the weapon, rolling away, hissing as he stemmed the tide of blood with a finger.

"You're full of surprises, but so am I!" He laughed as he produced a handgun and leveled it at the prince's head. He shrugged and looked down at the weapon, pulling the hammer back, a cylindrical object rotated slightly as he did.

"Hah..." Jarvan breathed raggedly, blood dribbling down his chest and from his leg still as he leaned on his lance. "That's not fair... bringing a gun to a sword fight." his head lolled back against the already blood stained rock wall as he chuckled weakly, coughing as he did.

"Fair?" Lambert laughed sharply. "Thus is life, prince. You may not know much about it since you're royalty, but life has a way of fucking you over sometimes." He sighed and shrugged, grinning, admiring the weapon he had leveled at the prince. "Piltovan hextech technology, another treasure here thanks to the Institute of War. It's an elegant weapon, and effective too. Goodbye." The pistol shot rang out, striking the prince low on the abdomen. Jarvan hit the ground, holding his side, air escaping his mouth in a silent scream of pain. Lambert frowned, looking down at the weapon in hand. Smoke issued from the barrel, and when he tried to draw the hammer back, the cylinder didn't budge. "Worthless piece of shit." He sighed and kneeled down next to Jarvan, tapping the prince's chin with the tip of the barrel. "Well that was a waste. I hate technology like this. Always so fickle. What's a man to do?"

"Screw you." Jarvan gritted his teeth, glaring up at the man, his blue eyes almost glowing with hatred. His hand went to his lance, but Lambard dropped a knee on it, ripping it from Jarvan's grasp. He tutted the prince softly, wagging the barrel of the pistol in front of Jarvan's face.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful eyes, prince?" The man mused, looking over the prince. "So cold and icy, vicious. The eyes of a purebred killer. A pity."

"You're... a... bastard..." Jarvan muttered between gasps and groans of pain. "Go fuck yo—AHHHHHHH!" The man drove the barrel of the pistol down into the hole in Jarvan's side where the bullet had passed through him. He wormed the barrel about, his smile growing as he watched the prince writhe in pain.

"You've got a surprising amount of fight in you, considering your extensive injuries..." Lambert mused, grinning. "I like that in a man. It makes breaking them fun." He moved his gun about again. "Let's see if I can get these walls to disappear..." He pushed the barrel deeper, the prince screaming again, the walls collapsing around them. "How convenie-..." A horse galloped past as the walls crumbled away and Lambert had to roll away as a sword swung past, aimed for his head. "Fucking..." He snarled, getting to his feet. He looked around as he sheathed his sword and then picked his crossbow up from the snow, placing a bolt onto the action from a metal container on his waist. His gauntlet shimmered with blue power, the metal imbued with a dark energy that hummed greedily. He raised it up and took aim as the horse stamped to a stop, turning slightly. The sergeant major had his sword in one hand, the reigns in the other. Delancey was seated in front of him, holding onto the horse for dear life.

"Your highness!" The horse stamped impatiently at the ground. Jarvan grabbed at Lambert's bow, the officer growled as he struck the prince across the face, sending him tumbling back down to the ground.

"Del! Argus! Go!" Jarvan shouted, but the man put his boot down on the prince's side. The prince writhed about, shouting in pain.

"Stupid motherfucker!" Lambert snarled. He brought his crossbow up as the sergeant major turned and kicked the horse into a gallop, making a break for the tree line. The crossbow fired and the officer frowned, watching the horse continue to gallop away. A smile slowly spread over his face as he kneeled back down, grabbing Jarvan by the hair and hauling him up into a sitting position to watch. "Wait for it..." The sergeant major slumped and fell from the horse, his body hitting the ground and rolling. It came to a rolling halt on the ground, the sergeant major slumped in a heap on the ground. "Bingo!" He chuckled happily as pulled Jarvan up to face him. "What do you say to that, pri—fuck!"

Jarvan drove a combat knife into Lambert's thigh. He threw Jarvan aside, backing away as he ripped the shimmering blue-steel knife from his leg. He looked at the blade and cast it aside as Jarvan pulled himself to his feet with his lance. The prince was struggling to stay standing as blood poured from his side and shoulder. His breathing was ragged and weak, and his stance was crooked, all of his weight on his left leg, blood still pouring from his right. "Burn in hell."

"I'm surprised you can even move, much less fight." The officer muttered as he picked himself up and brought his sword back out, licking his split lip. "Your stamina and fortitude and commendable." He raised his sword above his head as he stepped in, the blade humming in bloodlust. "But enough is enough!" Jarvan snarled as he raised one arm up, catching the blade in the talons that lined his vambrace. He twisted his arm about, locking it in place, holding it tight. Lambert's eyes bulged in surprise for a moment as he tugged against the blade, his mouth working for a moment as Jarvan grinned, glaring at the man.

"That's a cute trick... got any others?" The man growled, smirking.

"Yeah, I've got a few." Jarvan spat back weakly. He twisted his arm further around, ripping his arm down and jerking the blade from his hand, sending it skittering away, disappearing beneath the snow. Jarvan cocked his good arm back as he spun and slammed a hammer blow down onto Lambert's chest, sending the man staggering backwards. Jarvan ducked down below the man's wild haymaker as he went for another blade, leading his vambrace upwards led by his elbow, gashing the man across the chest.

"You fuck!" Lambert snarled, clutching his chest as he staggered backwards, gasping for breath, the blood dripping from the gash in his chest steaming as it hit the cool air. He looked down at the wound and snarled, turning and starting away from the battle. "Keep me covered! I need to patch this up!" He roared through clenched teeth. "Jaeger, you've got command!" His subordinate nodded and waved the men forward, charging forward towards the wounded prince.

"Forsythe!" Jarvan shouted, as he raised his lance and swung wildly at a soldier, catching the man in the side of the chest and knocking him away. "Get the sergeant major to safety!"

"What?!" Forsythe snarled, looking over his shoulder as he brought his ax down onto the shoulder of a soldier, his collar bone cracking as blood sprayed out. "What happened to...FUCK!" He spun and kicked the corpse he had just dealt with away, scrambling. "Go! Jarvan, I got the sergeant major!"

Forsythe sprinted forward, bringing his ax down and across his body with a single hand, literally disarming one of the men that stood between him and the sergeant major. He stepped over the body and spun, bringing the ax up from the bottom of the hilt, landing a kick on the first man that sent his body crashing into the second. The man looked stunned as he clutched the screaming man's shoulders, watching as blood sprayed from the stumps of limbs he had left. He started to push the man off but Forsythe had already followed through, bringing the ax up and across his body, swinging it in a massive uppercut that caught the man under the chin. His head exploded as Forsythe shouldered past and dropped to the ground next to the sergeant major. "Quinn, cover!"

"On it!" She shouted, putting a pair of bolts into a man that rose up next to Forsythe, one arm missing, a knife clutched in his other hand. The body crashed down onto the corporal and he simply shrugged it off as he tended to the sergeant major's wounds. She spun and raised her crossbow, the weapon clicking empty. "Valor!"

The eagle shrieked and descended, gashing a man's face as he tried to charge. Quinn slid to a stop next to Forsythe, ripping a bolt from the dead man's chest and pushing it into her crossbow. She spun and fired the weapon as the man finally managed to beat the bird off. The man stood over her, his weapon raised over her head. The body collapsed, the bolt protruding from his eye.

"I got the sergeant major!" Forsythe shouted. "Let's get back to the forge!"

"Do it!" Jarvan snarled. "I'll buy you some time!"

"You're injured, Jarvan!" Quinn shouted as she pushed another used bolt into her weapon. The prince was wild eyed as he cut another soldier down, the blood splattering across his chest as he spun, his leg buckling and sending him to one knee as he brought his weapon up and knocked a soldier's weapon away.

"Quinn!" Jarvan shouted, grabbing his lance and sweeping it through the snow, as men turned on him, sending up a sheet of sparkling white that crashed towards the charging men like a wave from the ocean. Shouts came from the men in black as they batted the snow away as it stung their eyes and whipped their faces, carried by a sharp blast of wind. "Go after the leader! Don't let him get away!"

"But what about you?" Quinn shouted back as she rolled away from the sword swipe of one of the Noxian infiltrators, lashing out with a boot and sending the would be attacker reeling backwards down the embankment as she brought her crossbow to bear again. The thunk of the bolt landing in his chest was followed by the gurgle of blood rising in his throat and the eerie lack of sound as his body hit the snow covered ground. Quinn picked herself up and looked to Jarvan and then the others.

"Go!" Jarvan bellowed. "If he gets away then it's all for naught!" The young woman glared at the prince for a brief moment before she nodded once, spun and disappeared into the trees after the Noxian leader. Jarvan watched her go, turning his attention back to Forsythe.

"How is the sergeant major?" Jarvan spun on his knee and triggered his lance, the weapon ripping itself from his grasp. One end dug into the ground and the other caught a charging soldier in the shoulder and impaled him, flinging him backwards. Jarvan hit the trigger again and the weapon retracted, jerked from the man's chest as leaving him in a leaking pile on the ground.

"He's stabilized for now." Forsythe barked. "Nothing more we can do here." He growled in anger, dropping the sergeant major behind the embankment. He avoided looking at Constantin's body where it lay upon the ground. "They got reinforcements inbound, sir!" Forsythe pointed to where more men filtered out of the forest. "Looks like the perimeter guard, maybe ten or twelve in number."

"Can we move him?" Jarvan spat as he limped over the embankement. He dropped, ducking a crossbow bolt, the whistle of the arrow passing just over his shoulder. He snarled, watching the user of the weapon curse and reposition, running in a circular motion around the encampment. He slid to a stop at the bottom of the muddy slope, gripping his side and groaning in pain.

"Not likely." Forsythe said, looking back over his shoulder towards the embankment. "We've taken down more than half their number, but there are still a lot left..." He looked to the prince and frowned. "And you're in no position to be fighting, now."

"Yeah." Jarvan wheezed, breathing heavily.

"Maybe we should just surrender, boss." Forsythe said, softly. "They killed Constantin, maybe they'll just let us go..."

"I doubt it." Jarvan said softly. He still held himself up with his lance, leaning heavily on the weapon as he looked over at the Forsythe. "What, you done already? Remember: Demacian's don't surrender."

"And I thought I was the mad one." Forsythe looked up at Jarvan with a thin grin.

Blood started to drip from his mouth.

"Forsythe?" Jarvan's eyes grew wide. "FORSYTHE!" The corporal fell face first into the snow, a sword sticking from his back. A Noxian in black stood over him, grinning. He put his boot on Forsythe's back, ripping the blade free, blood dripping along the fuller and into the snow.

"Good riddance." The soldier growled with a cruel grin. "Give it up, scum, your men are dead and you're surrounded. Soon as we track that little bitch with the crossbow down, we can get the hell out of this shit hole."

"You... you killed him..." Jarvan murmured softly, looking at Forsythe's body, his eyes dull and empty. "You killed... Forsythe..." Jarvan's voice was distant and detached. "You..."

"Shut up and die." The Noxian snapped, barking a short laugh. The remaining handful of men slowly approached, their weapons held ready, all aimed at the prince.

"They're all dead..." Jarvan said softly. "Exemplar company is... gone..."

The ground began to tremble softly underfoot. Snow had been drifting down from the trees above now froze in the air, hanging mid-air like it was suspended in time. Electricity cracked around the prince, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists. Jarvan screamed, letting his head hang back as his shield exploded around him, the golden energy surging outward uncontrollably. It struck the men around him like a solid wall, lifting them up and tossing them about, sending them crashing to the ground from the sheer force of the wall of golden energy. It crushed the ground beneath the prince, a circular crater getting ripped violently in the ground. The sphere expanded and caught one of the soldier's legs. It snapped, the limb getting flattened between the golden orb of pure energy and the ground.

"What did you... What did you do..." The man who had stabbed Forsythe gasped, gripping at his chest as he struggled to turn. His movements were slowed and drawn out. "I can barely breathe..."

"You killed them all..." Jarvan murmured, his eyes wild and distant. The four others that had surrounded him had gone silent, the life crushed out of them, blood leaking from their mouths, ears noses, and eyes, their bodies crushed flat. The last man looked terrified as Jarvan stood over him with wild eyes now focused on him. Jarvan reached down and picked him up by the collar with his good arm.

"Perhaps you'd like to explain this..." Jarvan hissed, glaring at the man as he lifted him into the air with a single hand. "You tried to kill me, you killed two of my men, killed the smithy and now you've got nothing left." Jarvan growled as the man snarled and struggled. Jarvan's useless arm hung at his side, and blood still poured from his chest, leg and side. "I refuse to die! I refuse to go down until you tell me what is happening! Tell me why you're here! Now!" He applied pressure to the man's collar and his face started to turn blue. "Speak! Before I kill you!"

"You really don't know?" The man laughed, coughing and grinning cruelly. "Well then, that's all I needed to know!"

"What?!" Jarvan hissed, bringing the man closer to his face. "What do you mean that's all _YOU_ needed to know?"

"Heh." The man grinned. He moved his jaw about, lining up two odd teeth. "I'll see you in hell, _prince._"

_What? _Jarvan blinked once as his blood ran ice cold. The man dressed in black bit down, a crunching sound echoing from his mouth.

Jarvan tossed him away as he summoned his lightshield, watching as the man's body billowed and exploded outwards. Jarvan watched as his barrier flickered as failed, and though it had blocked the largest part of the blast, he was lifted and tossed away by the shock wave, hitting the ground and bouncing once before the world around him turned black.

...

Darkness filled the prince's vision for a few moments. He opened his eyes, wondering if the fall he had taken had him seeing things. The fuzz that had settled over his vision started to fade and he realized he wasn't seeing things. A green haze filled his vision as the man before him corked a small bottle, tossing it over his shoulder, cracking a grin as the tinkle of broken glass sounded through the ringing that finally started to die. "Lee?" Jarvan asked groggily as he tried to sit up.

"Ah, ah, ah." Lee tutted softly, wagging a finger in front of Jarvan's nose. "I wouldn't move if I were you, prince, your abdominal wounds are bad: too much more movement and you might just bleed out."

"What are you doing here, traitor?" Jarvan snarled, the venom lost in his wheezing.

"Traitor?" Lee stammered, touching his knife wielding hand to his chest. "Why, Prince Jarvan, I'm hurt. After I served you so loyally, I saved your life multiple times and this is how you treat me?"

"What do you want then?" Jarvan growled, again trying to sound menacing. The sound gurgled in his throat, the taste of copper burning his lips.

"Isn't it customary to thank your rescuer when they save your life?" Lee laughed aloud. Jarvan blinked several times, watching the man's easy smile and black hair bob as he kneeled down next to the prince. Jarvan narrowed his eyes as the man's face seemed to shimmer. "Alas, I haven't been fully truthful with you." He sighed softly, as if he were tired of explaining something to a small child. He looked about, frowning as the groans of men moving slowly could be heard even over the ringing in Jarvan's ears. "The explosion was violent enough to knock most of the remaining Noxians out, and it even incinerated another soldier. I always admired Lambert and his men for their blind dedication. We should have a little time before we're interrupted again."

"How..." Jarvan murmured, his voice gurgling softly. "How do you know that name?"

Jarvan had to blink several times to ensure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him as the man's face slowly began to change. The brow narrowed slightly, and the skin tone lightened. The hair lengthened and his cheekbones broadened. Emerald green eyes and long red hair characterized the face that looked down at him, an easy smile on the man's face as he kneeled next to the prince. He tapped a knife into the palm of his hand and brushed a few locks of red hair from his face before he smiled again. "It does feel good to finally let the wind hit my face. That damn magical charm is so _stifling._"

"Wait," Jarvan muttered, again blinking to ensure he wasn't seeing things. "Who are you?"

"Ah, but I am the man you've come to know as Lee!" The man said, again offering the prince an easy smile. "I could be offended that you don't recognize me, but I think I'll give you a benefit of the doubt." The man sighed again, shrugging his shoulders in a showy fashion. "Lucky for you, I need your help. It's an unfortunate thing, really, but the Black Rose has out stepped their bounds and they threaten your nation's wellbeing as well as my own. My daughter would have been my first choice for something like this, but out of fear for her safety, I was forced into more... _drastic_ measures."

"Your daughter?" Jarvan said, his eyes going wide as he finally realized who the hair and eyes reminded him off. He mentally placed a scar over the left eye and got rid of the beard, his voice getting caught in his throat. "That means... you're..."

The man smiled in a manner that could have frozen ice as he bowed to the injured prince. "General Marcus Du Couteau. The pleasure is all mine, Prince Jarvan Lightshield IV."


	49. Chapter 48: Defeat

Fire exploded on the barrier shields, splashing waves of flames across the arena. Shyvana dropped to the ground, skidding backwards, trails of dirt and clouds of dust rising up around her feet. She snarled as she clawed as the ground, shaking sand and mud from her gauntlets as she clambered to her feet. Shyvana dropped down into a defensive position, her hands raised as she looked around, watching the clouds of smoke and dust clear around her. "Come out and face me, you bastard!"

Xin exploded out of the shimmering cloud, leading his spear, jabbing directly for the dragoness's heart. Shyvana dropped and raised her gauntlet, catching and twisting the spear past her. She rolled, hooking the horns of her larger gauntlet over the spear head and yanked Xin past her, sending him stumbling past, spreading his feet and sliding as he struggled to regain his foot. Shyvana spun, knocking the spear up as she reared her main shield back, striking in towards his chest. He started to spin, but the blow glanced heavily off his side, sending his skittering further away. Xin ground to a halt, raising his lance up, his breathing ragged and heavy.

"You strike quickly, but you struggle to disengage when your initial charge does not succeed." Shyvana hissed, her breathing noticeably less labored than her opponent. "If you continue to drag this out, you're not going to win this."

"You can try and taunt me all you wish, but my temper is not as volatile as yours, girl." Xin murmured, stepping forward, moving slowly along the edge of the shield wall. Shyvana slowly turned, following the seneschal as he moved. Xin's breaths were shortened, and he limped slightly when his right leg crossed his left. Shyvana waited till he crossed his leg again, watching as he winced. She surged forward, striking at his spear, knocking his spear aside and landing a rapid series of blows in his side again, pummeling the wounded side. Xin snarled, spinning his lance and striking at Shyvana's torso. She raised her shields up and while it took the brunt of the pain, the sheer force of the blow sent Shyvana skidding away. She snarled as she clawed at the ground, leaping backwards and Xin charged after her. Xin buried the lance in the ground, a geyser of dirt falling down over Shyvana as she landed nimbly rolling away as Xin stabbed at her chest once, twice and a third time. Shyvana juked out fo the first, but the third caught her in the stomach. Shyvana grabbed the lance before it could strike, thought Xin shouted, powering through her block and knocking her into the air.

Shyvana twisted in the air, driving a fist down towards his skull, driving him backwards. Flames sparkled around her fist as the armored strike passed straight through the air. Shyvana landed, dropping to her knees as Xin slid backwards dropping his shoulder and charging again. He jabbed at her exposed neck, but Shyvana swept her gauntlet across her face, catching the spear. She jumped away, clearing the distance between then again.

Xin smiled. "You recover well, and you've learned not to leave yourself open, you've made good progress."

Shyvana charged forward, but immediately dropped sliding forward, catching Xin by surprise. Shyvana slammed one fist into the ground and slapped his spear aside, setting her stance as she lashed out with a vicious kick, catching Xin low along his ankles, he started to drop, Shyvana tucking her knees into her chest and digging her toes into the dirt and sending herself explosively forward. She barreled into Xin at an upwards angle, launching him into the air. Shyvana held onto him, grabbing him by the collar with one hand as they twisted through the air, up towards one of the barriers. Shyvana raised an arm back and nailed Xin with all of her might, sending him crashing down into the shield barriers.

Shyvana landed on the ground and immediately raised her guard. She watched, indulging herself with a quick smile as she watched Xin Zhao arc overhead, smoke trailing from his body as he collapsed onto the ground in a heap. Shyvana inched forward, watching his body for several moments. He had fallen still, though he still clutched his spear in one hand.

"It's a pity that Jarvan wasn't here to see me crush you." There was anger and resentment in Shyvana's voice as she turned, looking up at podium where the king stood, fitting him a defiant glare. _This is your doing, isn't it?_ She stuck out her chin and gestured behind her as the king rose and stepped forward to look over her. "I win." Shyvana hissed coldly. "Now where is my prince? Where is Jarvan!?"

A slight frowned played over the king's face, a brief moment of confusion showing in his eyes. He slowly smiled as he returned to his seat, folding his hands in front of his face to hide his smile. "Your battle is not over yet." King Jarvan III announced. Three rapid steps could be heard, followed by the brief sound of tearing steel. Shyvana stumbled slightly forward as something warm began to spread over her right hip. She looked down, grabbing the tip of the spear that jutted from a gap in her armored plates. A single jagged piece of scale mail jutted from the wound.

"You look away for even a second…" Xin hissed from behind, his breath slow and controlled, though ragged. "You lose sight of your charge for even a moment and they can die. You can die. Remember that, girl." Xin jerked the spear free, backing away as blood dripped from the tip of his spear. "End your suffering now. You are still far from ready."

"No…" Shyvana hissed softly, stepping one before she dropped to her knees, her weapon bouncing away from her as she clutched a hand over the wound. "I'm not done… not yet…" She looked down at her hand and then back up to Xin, glowing orange pupils gleaming back at him. She hissed softly as fire began to well up around her hands.

"You forfeit if you use your flames, girl…" Xin said softly, watching her.

"These flames aren't for you." Shyvana looked down into the swirling mass of flame that shivered and sparked within her palm. She brought the flames down to her side, pressing the flames into the wound, the hissing sound of the quenched fire echoing through the silent arena. The sickly greasy smell of burnt meat hung in the air as Shyvana coalesced a second mote of flames, pushing it into the open wound on her back. She remained silent, though the anger and pain in her eyes and face caused even the hardened seneschal to wince.

"They say true warriors are born of the battlefield…" Xin whispered, as Shyvana exhaled slowly, steam jetting from her nostrils. "Where you were born of… I would not like to visit with the entirety of the Demacian at my back." She took several long breaths, the steam growing thinner with each breath. She blinked several times, magenta orbs glowing back at the seneschal.

"I am not finished yet." Her voice cracked, her tone strained and hoarse. She raised her gauntlets up in front of her face. "I will not be beaten so easily. I will not fail Jarvan."

A smirk played over Xin's lips. "To triumph!"

He launched forwards, beginning his attack anew. 

* * *

Valentine burst through the door of the courtyard, panting as she looked about. The courtyard was filled with people, soldiers, civilians, servants and officers alike, cheering and clapping echoing off the walls of the courtyard as they watched Shyvana and Xin duke it out. "There she is..." Valentine murmured, shaking her head. She frowned, looking at the crowd. "I've got to let her know... Jarvan... Jarvan is..." Valentine shook her head again. _I've got to hurry!_

"Excuse me, miss, are you lost?" Valentine practically jumped out of her skin, losing her footing and sliding down the first few steps towards to center of the courtyard. "Miss, are you alright?" The voice was proud and firm, a massive hand descending down towards her as she groaned, trying to pick herself up. She looked up and then blushed.

"Captain Crownguard!" She squeaked. "Excuse me sir, I didn't see you there."

"It's fine." Garen said softly, offering her a hand up. She accepted, letting the massive knight help her up. "Why are you in such a hurry, you're never going to get through this crowd. It'd be best to go around."

"I can't!" Valentine snapped, the force of her own voice surprising even her. She blushed and shook her head. "I can't. I need to get to the center, right away, it's urgent..."

"There's a duel at the center of the crowd right now." Garen said, standing up straighter and simply peering out over the heads of many of the members of the crowd. "What's so..."

Valentine grabbed his blue scarf and pulled herself toward him. "You need to help me! Jarvan is in trouble!"

"What!?" Garen snarled. "How... what's going on?" His blue eyes turned fierce.

"He's under attack outside the city..." Valentine said, still panting, shaking her head. "I was told to get help... Jarvan was supposed to be back twenty minutes ago... the woman said something about Noxians..."

"Calm down," Garen said, trying to slow the woman down so he could make sense of what she was saying. "What's wrong? How is Jarvan in trouble? What woman..."

"You're slow... Val..." Delancey mumbled from the doorway. Blood dripped down her arm, the limb hanging at her side. It spattered across the floor as she hung her head, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Miss Delancey!" Valentine gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth. "You're still wounded! You need to stop!"

"Like hell..." Delancey muttered. "Jarvan, we went to investigate..." She slumped down against the door jamb, her face pale and drained, her breathing ragged.

"Medic! What in Runeterra is going on here..." Garen muttered, still staring down at the bleeding sergeant in disbelief. He turned to Valentine, his eyes wide. "What happened? Why is she injured?!"

"Jarvan... he..." Valentine stammered. "...said he'd be back soon..." Valentine shook her head and held out a small cloth wrapped item. "Delancey gave me this... I'm supposed to get Shyvana and show the king this..."

Garen pushed the swaddled cloth aside, and all the warmth in his body drained, ice coursing through his body. "This is... this is the prince's pendant... his birthright... if he gave it to you..." He looked down at the wounded sergeant. He touched the coin, the surface sticky with drying blood. "Whose blood is this?" He looked to the young woman who was collapsed in the doorway, guard standing around her, unsure of what to do. Their expression showed shock and fear. Garen reached down and grabbed her by the collar, hauling the sergeant up to his face. "Whose blood is this!?"

"No, please! Stop!" Valentine shook her head violently, tugging on his arm. "Please! She's injured!" Valentine begged. "You have to help me! Jarvan needs our help!" Garen released the sergeant, letting the young woman flow into Valentine arms.

"Damnit!" Garen snarled. "Lux!"

The young blonde woman had been watching the duel from the top of the steps, her legs crossed as she perched herself atop a winged lion statue. "Brother?" She looked down with a smile that instantly drained as she looked from Valentine to Delancey to Garen. "Vivian!"

"I need you to stop this damn fight and clear me a path to the center! Now!" Garen snarled, looking out over the sea of wild on lookers.

"What..." Lux said sprightly as she looked back at him with confusion, looking from the injured sergeant to the Demacian captain with fear for her friend in her face.

"Do it!" Garen snarled. "It's about Jarvan!" Lux blinked once and then nodded.

"One stopped fight, coming up!" She said as she picked herself up and stood atop the lion. She looked about and the set her jaw, raising her wand. "You might want to close your eyes and cover your ears!" She waved her wand about and then took a deep breath, her body beginning to shimmer with a brilliant incandescence. "This is going to be loud!" Lux let herself grin as a ball of light began to form in front of her, humming and pulsing energetically. She grinned as she rose up into the air, hovering above the statue she had been standing on. She raised her arms back and then brought them forward violently, a massive beam of light exploding through the air above her and the crowd. The sound rung like a thousand struck bells, the light as brilliant as the sun.

The smell of ozone hung in the air.

"Crazy bi-..." Garen muttered before catching Lux's glare and not finishing his sentence. "Come on!" He took Valentine by the wrist and pulled her along, budging through the crowd and pushing towards the center. "Move, get out of the way!" He bellowed, pushing deeper through the crowd.

…

Shyvana snarled as the brilliant light cut through the sky, raising her gauntlet to cover her eyes. "What is that!?" She dropped down, still squinting as the light faded. "You would stoop so low as to try and blind me to win?"

"Stay you blade." Xin muttered, grimacing as he backed away, keeping the distance between them as great as he could. His spear was still held at the ready, raised between them. "It was not my doing."

"Then who..." The barriers collapsed and the king stepped forward, a cross expression on his face as he approached the edge of the ring.

"This was a fight between warriors, not mages, correct?" He growled, looking at both of them in turn. The seneschal had bowed his head, but Shyvana simply glared at the king with venom in her eyes. "Which of you-..."

"You highness!" A shout came from the crowd, the groans and surprise of the crowd giving way to shouted of disturbance and protests coming from the direction of the main entrance back into the castle. "King Jarvan!" Garen pushed his way through the crowd, emerging with the young woman in tow. The king turned his back on the arena, stepping away from the edge to see what the commotion was about. A worried looking Garen Crownguard shouldered his way through.

"What is the meaning of this, Captain Crownguard?" The king growled, his blue eyes narrowing. He looked down at the young woman, Valentine's uniform now splattered with Delancey's blood.

"Trouble, sir." Garen said, tugging the young woman who he had been pulling behind him forward. She looked bewildered and frightened, looking up at the king with shock in her red cheeks. Her hands were coated in blood as she supported Delancey, the sergeant's good arm draped over her shoulders. "The wounded one came with this, sire."

"Y-you're... you're the king..." Valentine stammered. She looked up at the king, her eyes wide. While not nearly as imposing as Garen or the Prince, Jarvan III was the _king_, the one man who wielded all the power behind Demacia. He eyes were cold and menacing, and his expression was cross as he glared at the two young women.

"Well, what is it that is so important you needed to interrupt this important duel?" The kind barked, still glaring at Valentine. She blinked a few times and then she squeaked, lowering Delancey to the ground. A medic shouldered his way past, dropping his bag on the ground next to the sergeant.

"It's the prince!" She shivered from head to toe, holding out her hands, producing the small cloth wrapped parcel for the king to see.

"What is this?" The king frowned as he accepted it, holding it in his hand and folding the cloth back. He opened his mouth to speak but the glimmer of gold froze his voice in his throat. He eyes turned dark. "Girl, who gave this to you?" Valentine was panting still, surprised and overwhelmed by the king's presence. "WHO GAVE THIS TO YOU!?" He bellowed in rage.

"She did!" Valentine cried out as tears streamed down her face. "Delancey came on horseback! She was injured and fell from her horse! She said the prince was being attacked!"

"Why do you have this then?" The king snarled, watching her crumble under his fury. "Speak!"

"I was waiting for the prince to return!" Valentine said from behind a veil of tears. "He was overdue and I was worried... so I was at the front gates waiting when..."

"Make sense, girl!" The king bellowed, starting towards her when the queen stepped forward and stopped him.

"Enough, Trey!" Lady Catherine snapped, dropping down towards the young woman. She gave the king a cold glare as she wrapped an arm around the young woman where she had dropped to the ground. "Please, you need to speak clearly young one, what happened?"

"I can explain..." Delancey said softly, speaking up, looking up at the king with faded eyes. "I need to see Shyvana though... Jarvan is in... trouble..." Her voice faded and her head slumped as she fell still.

"Delancey?" Valentine said softly, shaking the young woman. "Del! Vivian!"

"I need a doctor!" The medic snarled. "Her wounds are grievous: I can't stop the flow of blood right now! The wounds are unlike anything I've ever seen…"

The king turned to Valentine. "Where is my son? What has happened to him!?" He turned on Valentine, but the young woman's fear forced him to take a step back and look at her with a frown.

"Jarvan went to check something just outside the city." Valentine said softly, her shoulders shuddering. "He said he wouldn't be long, he took some of his staff, the sergeant major and the sergeant with him. He should have been back by now, but Delancey came riding up on a horse alone, that didn't carry the prince's insignia. When the guards turned her away, directing her to the hospital, she turned to me and asked that I find Shyvana and show you and Shyvana that..." She pointed to the golden coin that the king held in his hand, wiping her eyes as she did. "Shyvana needs to see this!"

"What do I need to see?" Shyvana shouted from the arena, looking to where the king was. Her face drained of color when she saw Delancey.

"Del?" Shyvana said, moving slightly close. "Del! DEL!" Her eyes went wide in terror as she sprinted to the edge of the arena, mounting the wall and approaching the king. Guards stepped forward, blocking her way, but Shyvana snarled, roaring at them, the heat of her breath sending them shivering backwards. Shyvana dropped to her knees next to Delancey. She put a hand on the sergeant shoulder, but her head lolled and she remained silent, Shyvana's eyes went wide.

"If Del is..." Shyvana said softly, her pupils dilating and her arms falling the ground beside her as she kneeled. "That's means... that means... JARVAN!" Shyvana shrieked, the crowd falling silent instantly.

"Calm yourself!" The king barked, but Shyvana turned on him as well, the wild look in her eye as she glared up at him. She turned to Valentine, grabbing her by her collar and hauling her close, nearly nose to nose.

"Where is Jarvan now!?" Shyvana shouted, holding Valentine close. "You're Valentine, yes? You work for Jarvan!" Shyvana said urgently, desperately, her voice pained and strained. "Where is he!?"

"On the east road!" Valentine stammered. "It's at least a twenty minute ride at a full gallop... but..."

"I need no horse." Shyvana snarled, casting they young woman aside, glaring at the king. He frowned, looking at the coin and then Shyvana for a brief moment before he nodded once.

"Go."

Shyvana nodded, stepping back into the arena, dropping to the floor of the pit and starting towards the center of the arena, flames swirling around her. She stopped in the center of the arena and closed her eyes, arching her back and trying to concentrate her rage, trying to begin her transformation. She felt the kiss of steel upside her neck.

"You would turn your back on a fight?" Xin Zhao said, raising an eyebrow and watching her, the tip of his spear pressed to her neck. "A knight of Demacia would do no such thing. A Demacian does not retreat!"

"There is no fight left here for me." Shyvana said icily. "This fight has long been over."

"You're proud, arrogant even." Xin said, watching her with a frown. "Don't be brash though, if you run in ahead of us you'll only get yourself hurt. You can't even defeat me!"

"I was simply toying with you." Shyvana snarled, her ice cold voice slowly deepening, anger contorting her face as her eyes turned to fiery orange orbs that gleamed with danger. "I was hoping Jarvan would appear so he could see me _crush_ _you._"

Xin shook his head in disbelief, taking a half step backwards. "I told you, blind confidence will-..."

"Keep your weapon raised!" Shyvana snarled. "If you do not trust my conviction and my skill then let us finish this duel and be over with it!"

"You intend to finish this in a single blow?" Xin said, frowning. "Don't be stupid, you'd never win a head on fight, I have reach and skill in my favor..." Xin took a step back, watching as horns burst from Shyvana's head and her skin began to take on a bluish hue. "What are you..."

"Prepare yourself!" Shyvana's hands exploded in massive pillars of flames, heat rolling off of them. Heat and flames billowed like a tornado was roaring around her, her hair, encased in heavy armor whipping about wildly. Her eyes glowed a brilliant orange, her skin a sleek blue as her armor rattled with impatience, as if Shyvana's very being was ready to explode forward.

"You wouldn't..." Xin scoffed, but Shyvana simply bellowed a vicious roar. He exploded forward, kicking off the ground so hard that the stone beneath her feet cracked and shattered. Shyvana burst into a dead run, barreling down on Xin. He snarled and swept his lance about, striking at Shyvana's center mass with a massive crescent shaped sweep. Shyvana raised her gauntlets and blocked much of the blow, but the sheer force of the blow sent her skidding backwards as Xin took advantage of the brief moment he had earned and charged forward. He led with his lance, exploding forward, preparing to strike at Shyvana's chest with a killing blow, but Shyvana snarled and sidestepped, dropping one of her gauntlets. Xin started, gritting his teeth as Shyvana dodged his advance with a burst of flames to propel her instantly out of the way. _Shit..._

Shyvana grabbed the lance with her free hand and pulled it onwards, raising her other hand and bringing it crashing down and through the lance and splintering the hard wood.

"WHAT!?" Xin Zhao snarled, looking for Shyvana and then gritting his teeth. Shyvana had stepped into the arc of his attack an arm outstretched and swinging, aiming for Xin's head. The world turned black as Shyvana landed a massive haymaker across his temple that snapped his head back so violently the seneschal did a flip midair before he crashed to the ground.

"Arrogance? Don't make me laugh." Shyvana snarled, glaring down at the man, his black hair splayed out around him. The courtyard was dead silent.

"My god..." The king breathed softly, watching as Shyvana looked from the seneschal to the king. "You really are a beast..."

"I may be, but I also won." Shyvana said firmly, her voice almost inhuman as flames continued to swirl around her. She stepped over Xin Zhao and approached the king, the cold fury in her eyes enough to cause the king to take a faltering step backwards as she stepped forward. She took the small coin, Jarvan's seal, from his hand, the king left speechless. "You should gather your men, your highness." Shyvana said tightly. "I may need help with my duty."

"But how are you going to get there..." Jarvan III said lamely, trying to shake off the shock of seeing the seneschal taken out so easily. "You can't get there any faster than we can..."

"You must have forgotten, since I am merely a beast..." Shyvana said coldly, glaring at the king as her eyes burned brighter. "But I need no horse."

Shyvana turned and flames exploded around her, consuming her in a whirling ball of fire. Men rushed forward to protect the king, but he waved them off, watching as Shyvana dropped down towards the ground. Her body shivered as she swept her arms forward and then out, the limbs turned a deep blue, the armor glowing brilliantly as it turned to liquid and slithered over her. Two great wings swept out and a massive tail struck the ground, shaking the dirt beneath the king's feet as Shyvana emerged, leathery blue skin and scales covering massive muscles as the dragon turned her head skyward and let out a great roar. The crowd started to disperse, scream and shout of fear as Shyvana started running towards the wall of the palace, leaping upwards and clawing at the stone work. Bystanders scattered as stone fell to the ground as Shyvana clambered upwards, leaping across the gap between two massive spires and striking another wall as she climbed upwards. She looked to the clouds, pausing atop the highest tower before she released her hold on the building, spread her massive wings and took to the sky.

"Oh... right..." The king said, watching as she disappeared behind the palace. "I suppose I should have expected that."

"Trey?" The queen looked stunned as the King picked himself up off the ground.

"I'm fine, Catherine." Jarvan III said softly. "She is doing her job." He shook his head at that and turned to where Garen stood staring off after where Shyvana had taken to the sky. "Captain!" Garen started but quickly snapped to attention.

"Sir!" He shouted back, standing rigidly.

"Prepare what me you can. We ride as once." The king said, checking his sword upon his belt. He turned to Delancey and Valentine, medics working over the wounded one and a nurse tending the other, her eyes wide as shock set in.

"Yes sir!" Garen saluted and turned and took off before the king could return the salute or even dismiss him.

_I hope you know what you're doing, Shyvana._ The king paused as he took a brief moment to look to the sky himself. _My son's life may depends on it._

"He'll be fine." Catherine said aloud. The king turned and looked down at her with a worried frown. "Both of them." She smiled sweetly at him. "You look like a father for the first time since our son was born." She sighed softly, still holding Valentine in her arms.

"Catherine..." The king started to say, his throat growing thick.

The queen shook her head, offering him instead a knowing smile. "Go."

The king nodded his head and took off for the front gates. _Please be safe, Jarvan._


	50. Chapter 49: Answers

Jarvan stared up at the man and blinked a few times, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"How... how are you here? I thought you were dead?" Jarvan shook his head.

"I'll explain in due time." General Du Couteau said with a cold but toothy grin. "It's quite the long tale, but seeing as you've got nowhere else to go, and I need someone to know exactly what is going on right now, I unfortunately am left with no choice." He shrugged, wearing a thin grin, and though there was no malice in his eyes, they seemed distant and cold, as if he had been away from the world for far too long. He looked to the sky and frowned slightly. "We don't have nearly as much time as I would have liked, but I shall explain what I can."

"What about my men?" Jarvan grunted, attempting to push himself up. Pain ripped through his chest though, a blinding pain that caused him to suck in a hard breath and clutch at his chest desperately. He lay back and turned his head slightly, looking beyond to where scraps of Demacian armor and tattered fabric could be seen flapping in the icy wind.

"They might live." Du Couteau said faintly, shrugging, crouching down next to Jarvan and examining the gash across the prince's chest and the nasty looking hole in his side. "You're the worst of the lot, unsurprisingly. You've got major internal bleeding, deep lacerations in your right thigh, chest and left arm, a puncture wound in your abdomen, bruising over what I guess to be nearly sixty percent of your body, and your heart isn't beating properly, some sort of arrhythmia." Du Couteau sighed and shook his head. "Quality and quantity of damage in this case. You're going to kill yourself if you keep over using your damnable light shield, though. You're taxing your body's natural ability to produce the mana needed to summon said magicks. I've seen it in many a young magus with strong latent abilities that didn't have full control over their powers. Your heart will give out if you do not control it."

"My body is not so weak." Jarvan stammered, but the fluttering of his heart in his chest told him that the man was probably correct in his diagnosis.

"Don't be stupid." Du Couteau grunted shaking his head and sighed. "You're really are a brick headed as they come, aren't you?"

"Insult me all you want, it doesn't matter at this point." Jarvan spat, closing his eyes.

"Such vehemence, I would have expected better of you, prince, especially considering how I saved your life." The man offered up his cold, toothy grin again. It sent shivers down Jarvan's spine. "That's twice now, you owe me. The least you could do is hear me out."

"What good would it do to listen to a Noxian anyways?" Jarvan growled, looking to where a dark cloak fluttered in the mud. "Were these not your men sent to kill me?"

Another sigh. Du Couteau scooped Forsythe's helmet from the ground, looked it over and then set it on the ground, right side up, sitting atop it next to Jarvan. "You don't get it do you?" Du Couteau narrowed his eyes as he watched the prince for a few seconds, finally shaking his head. "I no longer am a member of the Noxian High Command. I gave up that mantle when I was sentenced to death."

"There was no death order put on your head." Jarvan grunted, moving his shoulder slightly to try and remove some of the pain in his arm. "If there were, we would have heard about it. You disappeared in the Ivory Ward, did you not?"

"It seems my daughter shared some information with you at least, good." Du Couteau nodded. "But even she did not have the whole story. My original plan was to defect." He wore a paper thin smile, waiting for that shock to sink in.

"...what? Why?" Jarvan breathed, his eyes as wide as saucers now. "You're a celebrated Noxian General! You were third in command of all of Noxus! Why defect?"

"All in due time." The Noxian said, nodding his head slowly. "I'll explain things from the beginning if I have time, but I fear my time is already being cut short. First, there is something about Noxus you must know. In Noxus, there exists two major sects within the high command that have been fostering a great rift over the last twenty-five years. The larger of the two is a group of moderates that currently control much of the government, currently led by the reigning High Commander, Grand General Boram Darkwill." A smile flickered over the man's face. "Moderate, by Noxian standards in their desire to further Noxus without need for combat and loss of life. They were of the first to support the Institute of War, which in turn has led your own Demacia to join. These moderates think of themselves as forward-lookers, seeking to preserve Noxus, rather than continuing to seek dominion over the rest of Valoran. Opposing the reigning power is a secretive group of extremists that are led by an old contemporary of the Grand General. They seek to restore Noxus to her former glory, as one of the single strongest powers in the land, dominating all the smaller city-states that has risen to power in the last few decades, thanks to the advent of the Institute. They would see Noxus return to the olden ways, and the return of the aristocracy, returning Noxus to the glory where 'only the strong survive'. They are led by their Matron, a woman known only to a few by the name of Evaine. However, she has taken on the mantle of Emilia Leblanc, the leader of The Black Rose."

"The Black Rose?" Jarvan's eyes grew wide again. "L..."

"You know of that as well, good, good." The general smiled again, his cold expression melting slightly. "The name she currently goes by is only a title in reality, and she uses this title as she goes about her business taking care of every dirty deed needed to bring the Black Rose back into power. There are several other members within the Noxian Government and spread across the lands, but I only know of a few of the members with which I have had personal business. It's been centuries since they held any power though, so they've been pushing to regain it and their plans are slowly starting to come to fruition. I used to be a part of that group, the Black Rose. I was the highest ranking member of the Black Rose within the moderate's party, in the perfect position to do my duty to further the Black Rose."

"You were a renowned assassin, as well as an officer." Jarvan said softly, his eyes again growing massive. "You were going to kill the grand general? A coup?"

"Clever boy." The general's grin turned snake-like. "Yes, that was the plan."

"But you backed out..." Jarvan said, his brow creasing slightly. "You didn't go through with the plan, why?"

"The Grand General does not leave Darkbourne Hold for any reason." The general sighed softly. "He was paranoid, and rightly so. His fortress was patrolled by companies and companies of Raedsel Guardsmen, and the only time he allows himself to be seen is in the company of each of the other members of the high command. It's unfortunate, but I realized the hopelessness of the plan, for with even the strongest of the Black Rose's magicks, I would not be able to penetrate that hold. The others slowly started to realize that I was not willing to risk my own life and the life of my family to further their fruitless cause. It cost me dearly though, the livelihood of my wife and nearly that of my eldest daughter was robbed in an attempt to sway my feelings towards the Black Rose many years ago, and when I realized how hopeless my own situation was, and how the lives of my daughters were at risk, I decided that the only way I could solve the problem was by faking my death and disappearing completely. No one could know I was gone, not even my own daughters, so when Leblanc and her lackeys made their move on me, I fled and disappeared into the night. It's somewhat ironic, really. I originally wanted to escape the Black Rose so I would not deprive my daughters of their father, and in the end it happened anyways."

Jarvan exhaled sharply, grunting in pain at the sharp movement, regretting it immediately. "Katarina is worried sick about you." Jarvan grinned, closing his eyes. "So worried she came to _me_ in search of information. She dragged me into all of this… that stupid bit-…" Jarvan hissed slightly as Du Couteau applied light pressure to Jarvan's arm with a knee. He offered the young prince an icy smile, watching with excruciatingly false happiness as Jarvan glanced away and bit his tongue.

"It's heartwarming to know she cares more about me than her own safety." The Noxian said with a sardonic grin. "You may think me mad, you may choose to believe nothing I tell you, but do not doubt my convictions or motivations." A crooked grin broke out on his face. "Someday, when you and the dragon girl have children of your own, you'll understand my reasoning. It's something that neither Swain nor Leblanc could ever understand. They care for no one but themselves. They would see Noxus burn to the ground if it meant achieving their goals. I saw this darkness in them and I knew that it was only a matter of time before I as well was drawn too deep to retain what scraps of humanity I had remaining. I got out while I could."

Several long moments passed as Jarvan stared into the sky, contemplated the man's words. _If his claims are true, then my theory was correct; Swain desires to start a war. They're trying to force Demacia's…. my hand. _Jarvan exhaled slowly, his mouth a hard, thin line. "So why come to me?"

"My first choice was actually your father." Du Couteau said with a shrug. "He was always a fun adversary when it came to war gaming and intelligence and espionage back during my heyday within the Noxian High Command. He was a rival of sorts, though I doubt he truly saw me as such." The Noxian sighed and shrugged. "I originally intended to seek refuge in Demacia, but my contacts within the Demacian command structure stated that there were too many Noxian agents loyal to Swain and Leblanc for me to actually make a difference. So I used some tricks I learned from Leblanc to impersonate Sergeant Wallace Lee. A bit of blood is all it takes, and with way too much time on my hands, hey, what do you know, I managed to get a post assigned as your bodyguard. It's unfortunate that it took such extreme circumstances to draw you out, but I also had to confirm several things."

"Oh?" Jarvan exhaled sharply again, this time groaning in pain. "What exactly was so important that you need to let my men die and me nearly get killed as well? Hell, your friend died as well!

"Constantin?" Du Couteau sighed softly and shrugged. "A good man. I knew him from when we were kids. He made knives and I made blood run with that fine steel. How you found him though, that I am curious of..."

"When I was in Noxus, two men tried to assassinate Shyvana and I within your estate, using two knives that, if Steelsword was to be believed, were forgeries designed to look like weapons made by this his own hammer and hand." Jarvan shrugged with some effort and a regret filled grimace. "There was also a painting in your house in Noxus that matched one in General Lorcan's office... and more daggers. These were made as a gift when Constantin married the general's daughter. I followed the trail and it led me here, though it all makes a bit more sense when I plug you into the situation."

"Yes, Constantin made the blades for me whenever I needed something unmarked." Du Couteau sighed. "It seems you were used again, prince."

"Used?" Jarvan growled. "For what?"

"These bloody assholes have been hounding me ever since I left Noxus." Du Couteau growled. "I've been trying to ditch them, but they've been tracking my movements and slowly cutting off all of my escape options. When they attacked you, I knew something was up and I intervened on your behalf. It was a ruse to eliminate a threat and draw me out at the same time. I'm sorry you were injured and your dragon-girl companion put in danger, but it was necessary price to be paid. I needed to ensure you were who yourself."

"Myself? On my behalf?" Jarvan coughed sharply, pain arcing through his chest. He lay back and took several slow, shallow breaths. He furrowed his brow and looked to the Noxian. "Make sense... You just said they were here after you? What would you want with me? Who else would I be?"

"Swain seeks open war." Du Couteau's voice flattened, the playful tone dropping away completely. "He and his cohorts aim to depose the grand general and incite war between Noxus and Demacia to secure their power foothold. However, with the grand general still in power, both Swain and the Leblanc can't increase their political holdings by starting a war, not unless they wish to be seen as war mongering fools." Du Couteau frowned. "They want to _incite_ war, bringing it to Noxus's doorstep and the easiest way would be to force your hand. If you attack Noxus, Swain wins glory by defending his nation, expanding his sphere of influence in the process. He tried it once, in Ionia, but he didn't count on the corruption of the Ionian politicians. I will admit, I don't know why he chose you, prince, but he has targeted your consort, the dragon girl."

"Shyvana?" Jarvan said fiercely, his blood boiling at the thought. "But why attack Shyvana? She's not originally from Demacia. What good what it be to bring harm to her?"

"Can you even hear yourself speak, boy?' Du Couteau said, sitting back and grinning slightly. "You're angrier about harm coming to her than you are about the fact that you were ambushed and used as bait! They didn't want to hurt her, they wanted to hurt you! To strike at what is most important in your life! They want to drive you mad, be it with rage, grief, or both, anything it takes to get you to lash out blindly."

Jarvan brow furrowed. "What about the dragon, Kampf? Was all of that Swain's doing?"

"Some of it was, yes." Du Couteau said softly, frowning. "The dragon's grudge was his own, but I don't know if the dragon attack on the village was Swain's doing or just unfortunate chance. Swain spun it in his favor, there's not a Noxian alive who hasn't heard of the Dragon who rescued a prince from the depths of the Fleshling." A smile played over his face. "He tried to incite panic and motivate his forces, but the people were not as moved. When further attacks did not come, the fear of dragons passed, the fear of their fellow Noxian forefront among her peoples." A crooked grin dominated the general face. "Fortunate that the human race is so fickle and forgetful, it could have proved devastating if that had worked. From what I've heard, in the end Swain and Leblanc tried to have the dragon kill you all, with Shyvana promised as his prize if he did, but it didn't work. You stood against an impressive crucible, and gained an impossibly strong ally in the process, something Swain has regretted ever since. I think that's part of the reason he's tried to have Shyvana killed… she's yet another monument to his failings."

"They would do that?" Jarvan said, disgust dripping from his voice.

"You over estimate the humanity of my Noxian compatriots." The general smirked. "They do not think the lives of their men any different than that of weapons or artillery, much less that of you Demacians. In Noxus, strength is the ultimate goal. Without strength, there is weakness. Where there is weakness, there is failure. With failure comes death. If you aren't strong enough to survive on your own, you don't deserve to survive. _That_ is the Noxian way." He exhaled sharply, his grin growing slightly.

"What?" Jarvan asked softly, looking over at the amused expression as the general let his head hand back, his smile growing, twisting about cruelly.

"You two... such a volatile mix, I should have seen it before." The general said softly, shaking his head. "I wondered why they would aim for you specifically, and it only just hit me... Oh, Swain, you haven't changed a bit, have you?" Jarvan's quizzical glare got a chuckle from the general as he shook his head and leaned forward. "Noxians are a decidedly xenophobic group. While they respect strength, they reserve humans for the top of the food chain. In the past, there have been bounties, rewards set for the death of non-humans. While under the influence, that long standing bounty was succinctly swept under the rug, but Swain and Leblanc are petty at best. Your dragon's very life probably offends them more than your incessant meddling in their affairs. It must bug Swain to no end that you escaped from Noxus... you were under his thumb... oh I would have loved to have seen his face when he was told you had escaped."

"I see..." Jarvan said softly. "The DDS Excursion, that was your doing as well, was it not?"

"I do not know what led up to the sinking of the Excursion, but yes, I was originally to arrive via the ship under my new assumed identity and face." The general stroked his chin thoughtfully, tugging on his red beard. "It took me much longer to infiltrate the Demacian Security Brigade than I'm willing to admit, that Jormander is paranoid to the extreme. However, the man whose identity I assumed had already been recruited when he died. It was just a matter of stealing his face and I was in."

"He came from the Freljord, correct?' Jarvan asked. "Lee, I mean."

"He was stationed there, investigating a series of deaths by curious means, yes." The general said, shrugging. He nudged one of the black ice crossbow bolts with his foot and grimaced. "These weapons, the black ice, was being used to kill Demacian scouts who were working with Freljordian tribes. How the Noxians got them, I'm not sure to be perfectly honest, but it's nothing more than a curiosity if you ask me. I was never on the receiving end of it like you were." He shrugged again. "But then again, I never knew anything about it, and frankly, I could care less for the affairs of the Freljord tribes. The only thing of value in the Freljord is ice. By the time I had assumed his identity, he had been ordered home and all his reports had been completed."

"I have to ask..." Jarvan mused softly. "Why Demsec? Surely there would have been easier postings..."

"How's that saying go?" Du Couteau mused as he got to his feet. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Jormander may be a spiteful little pest, but he's good at what he does. Besides, there were a few _things_ I had to take care of before I could be settle in to my new life. It was unfortunate really, _they_ had been friends once upon a time."

"Friends?" Jarvan raised an eyebrow.

"Friendly enemies, I suppose." The general exhaled sharply. "Spies, you would call them. I dealt with a few to keep my identity a secret from Swain as long as I could, but I suppose in the end it only ended up bringing these men that much closer to me." He unceremoniously ended a groaning man's life with a swift kick to the temple. "I figured you would have figured me out a bit sooner, prince. I may have overestimated your ability to pay attention in the face of certain ..._distractions._ I will admit, I was impressed about how quickly you put the connection between me and Constantin together, though."

"I'm sorry about what happened to your friend." Jarvan said, laying his head back. "I know how it feels to lose someone you were close to."

"I suppose you know that better than anyone, wouldn't you?" There was a window of vulnerability in Du Couteau's face and voice that slammed shut after only a brief few moments. He kneeled down next to Forsythe's body and pressed two fingers to his neck. He grimaced as he stood up, pulling his cloak closer around his body. "Earlier, you asked what I meant when I said you were _yourself_... I've been following you, watching you since you returned to ensure nothing had changed with your convictions to your nation. I wanted to ensure that you were of sound and competent mind after so long spent away from your nation."

"You thought I was I was being impersonated..." Jarvan said, nodding slowly, the realization dawning on him. "I see now. You impersonated Lee, so it would make sense that someone could do the same to me..." He looked to the general who nodded silently. "How did you know? What would you have done if I was just an imposter?"

"I would have killed you long ago." The man's voice was simple and cold, and it sent shivers down Jarvan's spine. "And it took me a lot longer to decide whether to let you live or not to be honest. The attack on your dragon girl made me doubt my judgment, but when the sharpshooter tried to poison you, I realized they never would try to do away with an asset of their own and it all fell into place." The general grinned slightly at the prince's paling face. "Do not worry, I had a feeling long before that you were not a Noxian plant. Your treat your friends like brothers and sisters, not enemies who simply don't wish to stab you in the back. There is no way you could be Noxian." A smile flickered over his face. "Those sentiments are ingrained in our very being."

"My friends?" Jarvan said softly, looking around. Argus's chest rose and fell at a steady pace, but Forsythe's breathing was much more erratic. "I suppose I did get a bit too close with many of them... Vorscham, June, Del, Forsythe and Val..." Jarvan closed his eyes. "...And Shyvana..."

"You undercut yourself, prince." The general grinned, leaning over Jarvan and looking his chest over, examining some of the messy bandages that had been roughly tied in place. "Your family, General Lorcan, Poppy the Yordle, Kayle the Judicator, High Councilor Elias, Noel Halsington, the Crownguard kids... you're not alone. It is good that you still have friends in your life, like that Crownguard, fellow. What was his name?"

"Garen?" Jarvan said, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Yes, that's the one..." The Noxian general narrowed his eyes with a dark frown, grimacing as he shook his head. "I would have thought my daughter would have made a better choice than that..."

"What?" Jarvan asked, frowning as he looked up at the red haired general.

Du Couteau shook his head. "Nothing, it's nothing. Your friends are with you, prince. They are your strength, and your greatest asset. Keep them close, you're going to need all the help you can get." The man's voice had faded to nearly nothing as he sighed tiredly. "I hope you know, prince, if you go to Kalamanda, there is nothing you can do that with change your fate. The only thing that awaits you if you continue to follow this path is your inevitable doom."

"So, what's your point?" Jarvan asked quietly. "Better later than now."

The general snorted and grinned. "You make a good point. I'd ask you to try and ask you to keep the casualties to a minimum, but I wouldn't ask you to do something I wouldn't be willing to do myself. "

"General, your moral compass is so fucked up, I'd be surprised if you could find your way to the fucking road." Jarvan grunted, grinning crookedly

"A moral compass would just be confusing." The general said, chuckling coldly. "It's such a limiting thing, morality." Something rumbled in the distance, a long-off roar of pain and anger. General Du Couteau froze and turned his eyes skyward as the distant pained rumble of a dragon's roar could be heard across the frozen landscape. The groans of the soldiers that had been knocked out by the explosion signaled they were finally rousted, and some slowly got to their feet. "It seems our time is at an end, prince."

"Wait, what about Swain and Leblanc?" Jarvan said, trying to push himself up. He groaned and fell back, hard, grimacing and groaning. "You haven't told me how to stop them!" Jarvan rolled over and grabbed the man's ankle, grimacing and hissing as he did. General Du Couteau dropped down next to him, pressing the wound in the prince's side. Jarvan gasped for air, his mouth hanging open as his hands shuddered and he fell backwards, hitting the ground.

"Stop them? Du Couteau said softly. "You're in no condition to try and stop anyone right now, prince. Their plans are already in motion, the best thing you can do is stay far away."

"I refuse!" Jarvan snarled, glaring intensely up at the man, thought his body screamed in agony, the prince met the emerald eyes intensity and matched it. Du Couteau frowned, but it softened after several long moments.

"Should you chose to go to Kalamanda and attempt to stop what is transpiring, I shall wish you luck." The general sighed. "I won't be able to offer you much help, but I shall do what I can. As for Swain and Leblanc, I wish you the best of luck. Even I do not know what they have planned."

"I will stop them." Jarvan said firmly. "I refuse to sit idly by while they let their machinations play out."

"Then go." Du Couteau said, turning away. "Go to Kalamanda and do everything you can to keep the war from restarting. You cannot let their plans succeed."

"But..." Jarvan started to protest, but the general had already stepped away.

"I'll contact you there." The general said, turning and offering the prince a thin grin as he watched the soldiers slowly clamber to their feet. "That is, if you survive, prince. I wish you luck." With a fleeting grin, the man disappeared in a flash, a brilliant mote of light blinking and then leaving Jarvan in utter silence, his mind racing as he tried to comprehend everything.

"What was that...?" A voice growled. Jarvan turned to watch as a soldier in an oily black cloak got to his feet and shook off the shock of the explosion. He brushed snow from his cloak and searched the ground for a weapon, stumbling about as he did. Jarvan remained still, his heart racing in his chest as he watched the men drift slowly closer, stumbling through the snow. Jarvan groped the ground around him, looking for his lance or even a discarded knife, but he could only feel the slick mud and chunks of ice. Jarvan scowled and dropped his head back as the soldier's gaze ran over him. The man had cold green eyes and as he cast his hood back, the prince could see trails of blood that ran down his neck from his ears. His head gleamed in the dull light, and Jarvan felt his breath quicken as he watched the man's eyes grow wide as they danced over him a second time. He motioned behind him to what Jarvan could only fear was the remainder of his unit.

"Get up you, you twits, we need to clean this shit up. We don't have much time left." He growled, waving them forward. He paused, grunting and looking down at something Jarvan could not see. He kneeled, fiddling with whatever was out of his vision. "Machs, find me something that we can take it back to show we at least killed these assholes."

"Got it, brother." A younger looking soldier said as he pulled his hood back and sighed, shaking the sweat from his short, spiky black hair. He had the same green eyes as the new leader, though they lacked some of the years of the former.

Jarvan's chest burned, he had been holding his breath. He stole a brief greedy breath as the men started towards him, sweeping across the open field towards him. Jarvan looked around again, his eyes darting about, hoping to find anything he could use as a weapon. _That's it_! Jarvan tried to shift his body, reaching down towards his boot. His side started to ache, the wound in his shoulder and side screaming in pain as he drug his boot up towards him. _Come on, come on... if I can just reach my damn boot..._ Jarvan managed to get a finger around the knife's hilt and he pulled it free. Jarvan looked down at the knife, the dragon's head snarling back up at him. _You might just save my ass again, Shyvana._

Jarvan clutched the knife in hand and tried to slow his breathing a much as he could, though the ragged breaths he exhaled hurt his chest and burned his throat.

"Look at this!" The soldier named Machs shouted, pointing at Jarvan. "It's the prince!"

"Check and see if he's alive." The new leader growled, looking in the prince's direction. "Search him if he's dead, there should be a small coin thing on his person. Swain promised us a nice fat bonus is we managed to find it."

"Aye, sir." Machs grumbled, jogging forward as if he had expected praise. He kneeled next to the prince, and started to grab at the prince's cuirass, but Jarvan brought his knife up under the man's chin, driving the full length of the blade up into his skull. His eyes budged and horror played through his face as he spammed once before falling still. Pain ripped through Jarvan's shoulder as he struggled to hold the man's weight up, his arm threatening to buckle as the man's full weight fell on the prince's wounded shoulder. Jarvan's vision darkened, tinged red around the edges.

"Machs, what did you find?" The leader shouted. "Machs? Machs!"

Machs collapsed on top of Jarvan, and the leader surged forward. He grabbed the man who Jarvan had stabbed, blood dripping from his mouth and head, the leader's face contorted with rage. "How are you still alive, you bastard!?" The man looked about in shock and anger, snatching up a sword and raising it up above his head. "You killed Machs, you fuck!" The man brought the knife down, Jarvan just barely catching his hand as the blade hovered inches from Jarvan's chest. He struggled against the leader as he slowly started applying more and more pressure. He started to force the knife down towards Jarvan's chest. "You... killed... my... little... brother!" The leader was practically laying on top of the knife, and the blade has just started to drive into Jarvan's chest, the prince's vision now nearly black as he struggled to survive. "Die! Die! DIE!"

"Not… yet…" Jarvan gasped, snarling as he fought back with the last of his strength. "I'm not done… yet… I must… not… fail…"

An ear shattering screech finally broke the man's attempts to impale the prince.

He sat back and looked up as a massive dragon slammed into him like a freight train, grabbing him with a massive taloned foot. Shyvana crashed down above Jarvan, her claws sending up a tidal wave of ice and mud as she clawed at the ground to stop as the entire forest shuddered around her. She tossed the man up and then snapped his leg out of the air in her jaw, whipping her head about and slamming him into the ground. The man was left in the center of a crater from the impact of his own body being slammed into the ground. A single breath slowly hissed from his lungs as he died.

Shyvana snarled and opened her mouth, spewing a column of flame that three of the soldiers in black simply disappeared into, nothing but ash left as the flames dissipated in a cloud of steam. The remaining two men turned and tried to run, but Shyvana surged forward and smashed one with her armored tail, his back snapping and leaving him lying on the ground at an odd angle. The last man had gotten only a little further, but Shyvana swiped his feet from beneath him with her tail. She lumbered forward, standing over him. She opened her mouth and roared, the man pinned under her massive clawed wings. The man's eyes was wide with terror, his voice caught in his throat as he watched Shyvana's razor sharp teeth snap mere inches from his nose.

"_You shall not harm my prince_!" Shyvana howled, as she gripped the man's arms in her claws. The man screamed in pain, but his cries of agony turned to a wild laughter.

"You're too late!" He howled as he felt one arm pop from its socket, his muscle beginning to tear as Shyvana snarled. "He's probably already dead!"

_"Lies!"_ Shyvana ripped the man asunder, casting fragments of his body aside as she spun, dropping down towards the prince. _"Jarvan? Jarvan!"_

Jarvan was lain back on the cold ground, the emptiness and the silence of the air around them suddenly flooding down around him, as if he were getting drowned by the emptiness. There was clarity now as Jarvan took a deep breath and grunted softly, pulling himself up, the pain blinding.

A white hot knife of pain cut deeply into his side, blinding him and sending darkness across his vision. Shyvana gently pulled his head onto her knees, her pale face flushed against the cold as she held him with human arms. She brushed hair and mud from his face, tears streaming down her cheeks as the prince's eyes fluttered open and looked up at her.

"Shy..." His voice was weak and distant.

"I'm here now." Shyvana said, her throat thick as Jarvan's eyes fluttered shut. He tried to move his hand, but the adrenaline had drained from his body and he was left weak and unable to move. The dragoness grabbed his hand, his ravaged body lain atop a bloody patch of snow and ice. "Just hold on... help is on the way..."

Jarvan looked up at the dragoness and offered her a sad smile. "Help just got here. I'm just going to take a short nap now…"

"Hold on, Jarvan." Shyvana begged, holding his cheek. Something warm and wet dripped upon his face. "Just a little longer…"

"I'm so tired…" Jarvan murmured as his eyes fluttered shut.

The flutter of the wind and the sudden heat of the sun caused Jarvan to try and look to the sky, but only distant magenta orbs and darkened shadows clouded his vision. The shadows shrunk briefly as warmth started to flow into him, but the exhaustion and pain he felt was too great.

Jarvan let himself embrace the warmth and the darkness that followed.

Somewhere distant, his name was being called, the sound echoing around him.

Jarvan closed his eyes and exhaled softly, letting the darkness overwhelm him.

_I am truly... sorry..._


	51. Epilogue

Jarvan opened his eyes and looked around, sitting up and groaning softly as he found himself on a familiar grassy knoll. Though it was cold, the shiver that ran up and down his spine was not from the chill in the air, there was something wrong. There was no one there on the knoll, the grass almost perfectly silent and still despite the chill that continued to run up and down his spine. Jarvan could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Suddenly a crow appeared on a tree and crowed. The sound echoed around him eerily.

Jarvan took a hesitant step forward and heard something crumble. He looked down and saw the ground crack beneath him. He jumped back and tumbled to the ground. A massive beaked beast exploded upwards, rising hundreds of feet above Jarvan. The beaked face was contorted in rage, the cruel face of Swain exploded out of the beak, sneering at him, his laughter echoing through the roar of the monster.

Feathery tentacles exploded from where Jarvan was crawling backwards, lacing around his limbs and chest and pulling his down to the ground like a vice. Jarvan felt himself getting dragged into the ground, something slimy tightening down around his neck. Swain loomed over him, blackening out the sky above them.

"Jarvan!" The voice was distant and hollow.

Jarvan could smell Swain's disgusting breath, and feel the heat and saliva that sprayed over him. Jarvan struggled with the bindings, but couldn't get free. He opened his mouth to scream and shout, but he felt his jaw fall open and no sound came out. He looked down and saw his jaw fall away, rotten and black. Jarvan was rocked back as lances exploded outwards from Swains chest and pierced him in the shoulders and thighs, holding him in place. Jarvan tried to scream in pain, but he couldn't form the words.

"Jarvan!" It was louder this time, closer.

Swain loomed just over his head and let his long black tongue hang out of his mouth. Jarvan tried to shrink down into the ground, but he couldn't seem to sink any lower. Like a great snake, the tongue curled around his neck and tightened down. The great beak and haunting face closed down around him. Jarvan began to fall, disappearing into a black abyss.

"JARVAN!" Shyvana shouted. Jarvan grabbed onto the voice and held on for dear life. He pictured her face and clamped his eyes shut, trying to escape the disaster.

Jarvan's eyes ripped open and looked about for the that same pair of gorgeous magenta orbs hovering over his face, but the dim light and the chilly air left him feeling empty. Jarvan lay on his back in a sea of his own cold sweat, his chest heaving, out of breath. Jarvan started to reach up to sweep his hair from his face and sit up, sweat streaming down his face, but pain cut through his body again and he groaned. Jarvan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, opening his eyes and looking up, breathing deeply. Gleaming blue eyes looked down at him, creamy pale skin framed by golden hair and a glowing smile. Jarvan gasped and jumped as she pushed a needle into his arm. He tried to back away, but the doctor's hand kept his arm secured.

"Shh, There's no escape..." She pressed a finger to her lips, smiling sweetly as she pulled the plunger on the syringe, drawing blood from Jarvan's arm. She filled the syringe, pulling it from the prince's arm and examining the blood and smiling down at the prince. "Surprised to see me?" She chuckled softly, flicking the syringe once to ensure it had filled fully. Satisfied, she slid a cap over the needle and slid it into her coat pocket.

"What happened?" Jarvan mumbled, his voice failing him and the sounds coming out a nothing more than a muddled mess.

"Patience, Prince." She mused, her voice sickly saccharine. She pressed a finger to her lips, kissed it tenderly and then pressed the finger to Jarvan's forehead. She smiled again as a wave of exhaustion suddenly began to creep up on the prince. The woman was backing away and paused just before the curtain. "I shall return… _shortly_."

She disappeared beyond the curtains, and Jarvan tried to sit up to call after her, but the simple exertion of trying to push himself up was enough to send a wave of exhaustion crashing over him. Jarvan sank back on the bed, closing his eyes and letting the darkness grip him and draw him back into the depths of sleep.

…

Jarvan opened his eyes and was greeted by the same blue orbs framed with gold as before.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Prince Jarvan." The woman said, producing a bright pin light and shining it in Jarvan's eyes one at a time. The prince clamped his eyes shut and tried to wave her off, but he doubled over in pain, his side aching. "Careful, careful, you're still injured."

"Where am I?" Jarvan said, or he thought he did. The sound that came from his lips was muddled mess of a grunts and groans. The doctor, dressed in a white uniform decorated with red accents sat on the edge of the bed and pressed a hand to the prince's forehead.

"Your fever has died, good." She mused, taking a hold of his arm. The prince yelped as she pulled it closer, holding several fingers over the inside of his wrist, looking down at a watch upon her wrist. "Your pulse is a bit high, but that's to be expected." She released his arm and sat back, letting the smile return to her face. "You've been through it, your highness. How do you feel?"

"You're..." Jarvan frowned slightly, struggling to remember the doctor's name.

"Doctor Elvarran Brightstorm, at your service." She said, bowing shallowly. "You took quite a bit of damage in your little journey outside the city. Does anything hurt?"

"Everything hurts." Jarvan worked his jaw, looking down at his bandages and shook his head. "I feel like I got run over by a horse."

"Good, good." Elvarran mused, pressing Jarvan's leg in several places watching at the prince jumped and squirmed as she worked. "Pain means things are still properly attached and functioning... usually. And getting run over by a horse would have been much easier to treat, I'm afraid." The doctor chuckled lightly, nodding and grinning ironically. She looked down as a small clipboard sat on the bedside table, looking over it and flipping to a second sheet of paper. "You suffered major damage and puncture wounds to your left arm, right leg, and lower right abdomen, there was massive internal hemorrhaging and bruising, and you suffered a large laceration across your chest. You were dehydrated due to blood loss, nearly hypothermic and had three broken bones and seven cracked ribs. You've suffered major bruising and a minor concussion as well. I'm surprised you're awake right now."

"What day is it?" Jarvan mumbled, his mouth dry as the desert. Elvarran handed him a cup of water from the side table. Jarvan fumbled with it, trying to accept the cup, but his wounded arm was sluggish and he knocked her hand, sloshing a bit of water over his blanket. He blushed slightly as the doctor gave his a stern, disapproving frown, forcing him to accept the help.

Jarvan downed the entire glass, leaning back and exhaling heavily as he finished, looking up at the ceiling and grunting as cool air caressed his face. He tried to blink the weariness he felt away, but he couldn't banish it immediately. _I feel like I've been here before. _Jarvan recognized the gentle curves of the ceiling and the darkened lamp sockets. _It's some sort of infirmary._

"How long have I been out?" Jarvan finally managed to ask, forming the words properly this time. "Where am I?"

"You don't recognize it?" Elvarran said with a grin. "This is the same ward that your subordinates wrecked a few weeks back, in the south wing of the Demacian Martial Academy's Medical school. You've been out for three days."

Jarvan pushed himself up, pain rippling through his chest. Jarvan exhaled sharply and gritted his teeth as he managed to sit up fully. He breathed deeply, sharply as he looked around, the pale, sterile environment around him offering him nothing about what had happened in the missing days. Jarvan groaned as he ran a hand over his face and wiped his eyes.

"Do you want something for the pain?" Elvarran asked, watching as Jarvan propped himself up awkwardly.

Jarvan shook his head. "I'll be fine." He glanced over at the doctor as she stood up, stepping to the foot of the bed and retrieved a sheet of paper. She looked over it briefly and returned to the chair next to the bed.

_What happened..._ Jarvan laid back slightly and sighed, resting his head against the pillow behind him. He closed his eyes and thought back to the events of the days before, frowning. _If Kalamanda is where everything is going to go down..._ Jarvan frowned._ With the trapped miners and both Noxians and Demacians holding such strong presences in the region, it's a massive powder keg just waiting to explode. If Swain manages to start a battle, there's next to nothing to stop it from becoming an all-out war._ Jarvan looked down at his hands, clenching them into fists. His left arm protested, the bandages wrapped tight around the wounds. His entire chest was wrapped tight, and only the faintest pink splotches spoke of where the wounds were underneath the sea of white strips.

"The doctors tell me you're lucky you're alive." A voice growled as the curtains were brushed aside. King Jarvan III pushed through the heavy curtains that isolated the prince's bed from the rest of the room. He stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at Jarvan with a frown on his face, though his eyes were a clear crystal blue that betrayed no anger. The king glanced over at the doctor who was still tucked into her paperwork. She looked up and nodded to the king, simply flipping the page and continuing to scribble notes. "When we found you, you had just about bled out and you were nearly hypothermic. A few minutes later and I don't know if you would have survived the exposure. I can't say the same for the rest of the bodies we found."

"How did..." Jarvan shook his head, leaning forward, his heart now caught in his throat. "Bodies? What about Delancey, Argus and Forsythe? Are they alive? How are they!?" Jarvan tried not to let the urgency hurry his voice, but the thin grin on his father's face told him that things were better than he thought.

"They're all fine." The king said, nodding slowly. "A poor choice of words on my part, apologies. Doctor Brightstorm? You know their conditions better than I do."

The doctor looked up and then back down at her paper, pushing her clipboard down onto her lap as she sighed, sitting back slightly in the chair. "Sergeant Major Argus Perrywinkle is the worst of the surviving Demacians; he was exposed to one of those dark ice bolts for much longer than any of the others and his recovering is taking a similarly long time. I think that had he would have died long before had he not been such a stubborn old bastard." Elvarran snorted, there was obviously some amazement behind the annoyance, but she cleared the emotion from her face as she continued. "Your sergeant, Delancey was it? She hasn't woken up yet though. It seems her body was running on pure adrenaline by the time she reached the Palace, and she collapsed not long after arriving. She should be fine, the wound on her chest is taking longer to heal than we would like, but again, it's mostly a matter time till she wakes. Forsythe was in a similar state to you, low on blood and nearly hypothermic, but he's already up and moving about. We've had to subdue him several times to keep him from interrupting the sergeant's rest. He has a habit of sitting with her and talking and that drives the guards mad, but it's harmless. Delancey and Perrywinkle both are recovering from fairly grievous wounds and are recuperating slowly, but they're not in any danger." Elvarran shrugged and returned to her paperwork.

Jarvan exhaled heavily, holding a hand over his stomach. "I thought... I thought for sure they were all going to die..." He shook his head and looked up at the king. "What about the others? Quinn and Constantin?"

"The smithy, General Lorcan's son-in-law, was the only one who didn't make it." The king said gently, bowing his head. "And Quinn has kindly accepted a commission under Colonel Horrace Jerome to serve in his scouting battalions." The king grinned thinly. "We deployed an entire battalion to hunt down the last of the assassins who attacked you and killed Constantin Steelsword, but one of them made it through our net. Quinn's being lauded a hero for tracking down the leader, capturing him, and bringing him to justice. The people are already lauding her and her eagle as the next great heroes of Demacia, and her eagle serves as the perfect symbol for our military in these dark times."

"You're turning her into a hero, aren't you?" Jarvan said, raising an eyebrow and frowning slightly. "Like you tried with Shyvana..."

"They have earned the respect of the people, and they're now serving as living, fighting icons of Demacian strength and perseverance. Shyvana however..." The king frowned slightly and shrugged, taking his crown from his head, running his fingers across the golden ornamentation. He looked at his reflection in the metal, the gems glimmering brilliantly even in the dim light of the infirmary. "She is powerful, no one doubts that. However, she is not the symbol that Demacia needs right now. She is dangerous, and though you trust her intimately, it will take the people much longer to come to trust and respect her the way you do. I tried to build that trust by lauding her as a hero, but many are still hesitant about trusting a dragon, even a half dragon at that." The king sighed. "It is deeply ingrained in the common folk, in their lore and beliefs; they fear her power. Her strength will someday form a bastion of strength within Demacia, but right now the people need someone to look up to. This young woman, the ranger named Quinn, she is that hero. She rose from nothing, serving with the prince, tracking down a dangerous spy that eluded even the very best of Demacia. The citizenry can't get enough of her." He grinned and sighed, shaking his head as he returned the crown to his head.

"I see..." Jarvan said softly, frowning.

"You disapprove of my choices?" There was the slightest hint of indignation in the king's voice, but Prince Jarvan bowed his head, shaking it slowly.

"No, if Quinn and Valor accepted this mantle, I owe them the trust they have long earned." Jarvan sighed softly. "What of Shyvana, then? What happened to the fight?"

"She was not happy that you missed her fight." The king chuckled softly, watching as the prince cringed slightly. "When she finally chose to get serious, when she heard you were in trouble in fact, the fight did not last long. She shall serve as your bodyguard from this point until you decide otherwise, and she has earned her position within the Royal Guard." A grin cracked on Jarvan face as he sat up slightly. "It should also be known to you that General Lorcan has been reprimanded for his responsibilities in this fiasco, but he's admitted his wrong doings, and accepts responsibility for what happened with his son-in-law. He's been given head of the Demacian Security Brigade for now, a technical demotion, but he shall serve the post well. You will now be reporting directly to me, and I have decided to expand your staff, but that's not something you need to worry about right now, though I will expect a full report on what happened as soon as you are able."

"Of course. Thank you, father." Jarvan said, looking around, hoping to see brilliant red hair somewhere close by, but the absence was noticeable.

"Don't thank me." The king said, shaking his head almost disapprovingly as he turned away, pausing to look back over his shoulder. "You'll learn that I am a far more demanding superior than the general was." There was a brief moment of silence before the king sighed. "You should thank _her _though, she's already saved your life once. She is the only reason you're not dead from hypothermia."

"Who?" Jarvan's voice faded as the king smiled, turning and ushering himself towards the curtains. "Where..."

"The doctor will be returning in a few hours, and if you're up to it, I'd like you to debrief General Lorcan and I on what exactly happened." The king started to turn away. "Oh and you mother is worried sick, but I'm keeping her at bay till you can withstand that physical beating." A thin smile played over his face.

"You don't wish to hear about it now?" Jarvan asked. "In the past-..." The king held up a hand and shook his head.

"You look tired, and the information isn't going anywhere. Besides, I never said I didn't think your decision was stupid." The king said softly, patting the end of the bed, shrugging. "But I'm just happy you're alive... we can get into the details later." Jarvan nodded absentmindedly. "Rest well, and try not to reopen your wounds. The doctor will give you something to help you rest for now."

"But wait, what about Shy..." Jarvan said, recoiling back as the doctor sat down on the edge of the bed and pressed a finger to the prince neck.

"I suppose it would be difficult to try and prevent that, wouldn't it?" The king frowned slightly, tapping his chin in thought.

"It _is_ rather difficult to lock up a force of nature, sir." Elvarran said tersely, a smile tugging at the corner of her pink lips.

The king snorted, sighed and then turned to the doctor. "Can you delay the onset of the sleeping spell?"

"I think so." Elvarran had already swept in, pressing a hand to the prince's wrist and tapped his arm twice. She wiped his arm clean with a cotton swab and then drew a syringe from her coat, pressing the blunt nose of the long cylindrical tube to his skin. Jarvan hissed as a sharp blast of air struck him and the injection of the cold liquid rushed into his arm. Elvarran drew away the syringe and tucked it back into a pocket. Jarvan massaged his arm slightly, looking at the syringe, glowering up at the young doctor. She offered a dimpled smile, reaching out and grabbing Jarvan's neck, squeezing it slightly. "It will leave you a bit disoriented, but you'll be asleep within the hour." Her hands glowed brightly for a second as she muttered a few words under her breath and then released the prince, the light dying down as she stood up. Jarvan hissed slightly and he already felt woozy, the world going slightly fuzzy as he let his head fall back and hit the pillow. "The initial disorientation will pass momentarily."

"What did you do to me?" Jarvan said with a frown, looking around, holding a hand up in front of his face and looking at his palm and the back of his hand in turn. His hand faded out of focus and then back into focus. Jarvan flexed his hand once and noticed that the pain had dulled.

"A concentrated cocktail similar to what you soldiers call a 'health potion'." She said, her mouth working slightly at the prince's reaction. Jarvan looked down in abject terror, but the doctor laughed, smiling.

"What?" Jarvan said, frowning ruefully looking up at the doctor.

Elvarran shook her head and turned away, moving past the king. "It's nothing." She stopped and looked back at the prince. "You should have about an hour before the medicine knocks you out. As for why I laughed... I'll let her explain."

"Her?" Jarvan repeated, looking to his father. The king smiled.

"I hope you feel better, Jarvan, my son." He pulled the curtains back and ushered Elvarran out and then ducked through the curtains. They swung shut behind the king, leaving Jarvan in the silence. Jarvan couldn't make out any of the voices outside, but he could make out the uniform sounds of armored soldiers turning in time with each other and their steady _thunking_ footsteps clanking away from the doorway.

The curtains rustled slightly, parting to reveal Shyvana. She blushed slightly as she stood up, she was wearing a Demacian dress uniform without the jacket. The skirt's waist was high and dropped low to nearly knee length, and the blouse she wore was pristine white. Blue and gold Gunnery Sergeant's rank tabs could be seen glimmering on her shirt collar.

"Hello, my prince..." Shyvana spoke softly as sat down on the edge of the bed. She held something to her chest, the dim lights barely gleaming off the polished metal. Shyvana blushed and smiled as she handed over the weapon.

"My knife…" Jarvan said softly, looking at the dragon's head and smiling. "Where did you…"

"I found it in the ice and mud when I returned to check on the others." Shyvana said, ducking her eyes. "I cleaned it for you."

"Shyvana…" Jarvan said softly, the dragoness looking up at him. Jarvan grabbed her cheek and pulled her into a kiss, holding her head close as he took several deep breath. "Without this knife... Without you… I wouldn't even be here…" His voice cracked as he stared at the knife, looking back up to the dragoness. "Thank you… thank you so much…"

She laid her hands down on top of Jarvan's, accepting the knife from his grasp. She set it aside on the table, before turning back to the prince. "I know…" She mouthed, struggling to form the words as she smiled at him, her cheeks glowing brightly as her eyes clouded over with tears. Jarvan reached out and cupped her cheek in hand, wiping away a tear with his thumb. Shyvana wiped the tears from the other side of her face with her sleeve before she dropped down, wrapping her arms around Jarvan's neck and pressing her lips to his fiercely. Jarvan seemed surprised at first, but he soon returned the kiss in earnest, wrapping an arm around her and holding her close. Shyvana finally had to come up for breath, panting as she looked into Jarvan's eyes, a teary eyed smile on her face. She broke into a nervous giggle as she buried her face in Jarvan's neck, breathing in his scent and letting her racing heart slow. "Welcome back..." Shyvana breathed, holding onto Jarvan for dear life.

Jarvan smiled as he groaned a bit. Shyvana yelped and shifted her pressure to her side, sliding off his chest as Jarvan exhaled softly, looking down at the Dragoness. She wore an imp-like smile upon her face that said she was sorry but not really, though Jarvan couldn't help but chuckle throatily. Shyvana's face went from smiling to furious to distraught in an instant. Shyvana bounded forward as she looked him over, her hands hovering over his chest and the wounds below, unsure of what to do. As Shyvana swept hair from the prince's face. Shyvana searched his eyes for several long moments, the sadness on her face turning to a teary smile. Her smile cracked as she leaned in and kissed him deeply again, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing him tight.

"It feel so good to hold you again." Shyvana said softly, pressing her forehead to Jarvan's, blinking her eyes several times, the warm, salty droplets falling on his cheeks. "I was so worried when Del arrived carrying your pendant..."

"I'll be fine..." Jarvan said softly, wrapping his good arm around her back and holding on. "So long as you don't open my wounds back up while you're hugging me."

"Shut up!" Shyvana shouted. "Just shut up, you insufferable idiot!"

"Ow..." Jarvan grunted as Shyvana finally released him, the dragoness peeling herself off of his chest and sitting on the edge of the bed. Shyvana sat up, shaking her head, wiping the tears away, the anger again returning to her face. Jarvan sunk back slightly, watching as she fit him with a stern glare. "That hurts you know!"

"I don't care." Shyvana said, taking a deep breath as she leaned back against Jarvan She buried her face in Jarvan neck, her shoulders shuddering slightly. "Just shut up."

"Yes, ma'am..." Jarvan said, leaning his head against Shyvana as she sat back up.

"What in the hell were you thinking?" Shyvana demanded, sitting up and glaring at the prince with fierce eyes.

"W-what?" Jarvan said sheepishly, sinking down in his bed. "I... I was trying to put an end to all of this. These mysteries and the assassination attempts... I was trying to put an end to it all. I wanted to finish it... so we..." Jarvan glanced down at his lap, putting a hand over his wounded arm. "So we could be together, Shyvana. No more war, no more fighting... just peace."

"I wasn't telling you that you shouldn't have gone." Shyvana said softly, the stern, annoyed expression finally cracking. A smile was growing on her face as she stroked Jarvan's hair, leaning against him. "Only that you should have taken me with you."

Jarvan chuckled hoarsely. "I'll keep that in mind from now on."

"See that you do." Shyvana snapped, leaned in and kissing Jarvan tenderly, resting her head against Jarvan's chest, taking in the warmth of his body and resting in the mere comfort of his presence. "You had to know though, this was never going to bring peace, Jarvan..."

"Not now..." Jarvan said softly. "Maybe not even in a few years' time, but eventually... I hope this will bring us closer to a lasting peace."

"How much are you willing to give up for that peace?" Shvyana said, closing her eyes. "Because this is not over, you know. The king is still preparing to march to Kalamanda, and in the past few days the entire city has been mobilizing. Demacia is not preparing for peace… it is preparing for war, Jarvan."

"I know." Jarvan said softly, looking down at Shyvana. "I have much to discuss with you in the coming days. I owe you an explanation for all the pain I've put you through in these last few months, and I'm sorry I've not be able to tell you before now." Jarvan hung his head. "Please forgive me, I only wanted to protect you."

"You're the one who needs protecting, not me." Shyvana said, a faint smile playing over her lips as she ran a hand over Jarvan back. "And I need no explanation… I trust that while a stupid decision, you did have a good reason for keeping me separate from all this…" Several moments of silence passed between them as they reveled in each other's presence. "It's 'L', isn't it?" Shyvana said softly, looking into Jarvan's eyes. "You've found your answer, the reasoning behind Kampf and Noxus and Katarina…"

"I do." Jarvan said softly, a frown creasing his brow slightly.

"What will you do?" Shyvana said softly.

"I'm going to Kalamanda." Jarvan said, clenching a fist. "I have no choice any more. Everything began in that city and everything will end in that city." Shyvana rested a hand on Jarvan's clenched fist. The prince took a deep breath and opened his fist, lacing his fingers into Shyvana's hand, giving it a squeeze.

"I shall be by your side, Jarvan." Shyvana said softly, nodding her head and giving him a brave smile. "And you have no choice in the matter."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Jarvan said firmly, returning the smile. He yawned, the ebb of exhaustion still weighing on his mind. Shyvana laughed lightly, shaking her head.

"It seems you need to rest first." She said, watching as Jarvan sank back against his pillows and exhaled slowly. He closed his eyes and his breathing began to deepen. Shyvana lay down next to him, an arm wrapped possessively over his chest, one tucked underneath her chin. "Can I stay here?" Shyvana asked nervously, blushing. "I don't want to leave you again... I've done that too often lately and it tends to end up with you getting injured."

"I'd like that." Jarvan said softly, letting the dragoness curl into his side, sliding over just a bit. He wrapped an arm around her and sighed softly. "You can protect me from my nightmares."

Shyvana gave him a rueful smile as she rose up to him, kissing him again, slowly, tenderly. "I love you, Jarvan."

Jarvan smiled back at her, his eyes half closed, wearing his crooked, cocky grin. "I know." Shyvana pouted slightly, but he mouthed _'I love you'_ as he closed his eyes, an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Jarvan embraced the darkness like a long lost friend, holding Shyvana close.

...

The woman's appearance shimmered and faded, the golden blonde hair fading to a black sheen, a cruel smile twisting pale lips. She leaned against the wall, smiling as she watched a heavily armored patrol move past, the rattle and clank of their armor slowly faded down the hall. She melted deeper into the shadows, instantly disappearing and reappearing above, sitting atop a rafter. The rattle of further boots could be heard approaching, and though slightly more muted, the sound of voices carried over the noise of the boots.

"When do you plan to deploy our forces, your highness?" The voice was male, warm and robust. A wiry, white mustache decorated the aged man's face as he strode along next to the king. Armed guards surrounded the men on all sides.

"As soon as my son is fit and able, Elias." The king's voice was firm and confident. "It might take a few days, but Doctor Elvarran Brightstorm has ensured me that he will be up and on his feet as soon and possible. We leaving for Kalamanda immediately after."

"And his security?" The shorter, older man spoke softly, his pace slowing slightly. He stopped beneath the beam the woman sat on, a smile playing over her face.

"Shyvana is taking care of it right now." The king said firmly. "I'm also expanding his staff. I have a few people in mind, among them Doctor Brightstorm. As often as the two of them get injured, they will need their own doctor. Argus Perrywinkle, Valentine Isaacs, and Vivian Delancey will remain on his staff, in addition, I am pushing through the transfer of Ellington Forysthe to his unit. Captain Proudmast Vorscham will be given command of Victoria Company, and placed under Jarvan command. He won't be in direct command of the company, but Vorscham will report to him. "

"There is one more you approached, isn't there?" The shorter man said softly. "They say you're pushing to have Jorgun released from custody… do you really think it's smart to give him a gun and release him at Jarvan's back?"

"He knows more about espionage than anyone I know." The king said softly. "Jormander is desperate for one more chance… besides, I have someone who will be able to control him. We'll have to see, Elias."

"And the young ranger girl?" Elias said softly. "She will be going as well, yes?"

"Not right away." The king said. "If Colonel Jerome deploys her, then that will be his decision. I plan on transferring her to Jarvan's command in time, but for now she stands to gain much from Jerome's command."

"I see, very well." The older man mused softly. "Has the Institute offered any assistance? Surely they can see what is coming…"

"High Councilor Heywan Relivash is blinded by his attempts to rescue the trapped miners and his poorly veiled desires for the magical crystal uncovered within the city." The king said, shaking his head, trying to hide the disgust in his voice. "They are still struggling to manage the Noxian-Ionian withdrawal and the growing Noxian incursions into the Freljord. If it comes to blows… we will suffer no assistance from the Institute of War. Piltover will stand with us, but they have no standing army to assist us if negotiation break down. How goes your attempts to sway the Council to deploy more troops? I don't like walking into a fight with only the ability to bluff, high councilor."

"It goes well so far, I've finally managed to get Council approval for a full mobilization of the reserves." Elias said, nodding. "I've requisitioned another ten thousand troops to deploy in the coming two days, and I'm bringing in reserves from all over the country. Another twenty thousand will be armed and operational in two weeks' time, and in two months' time I can have another one hundred thousand troops available to you."

"Good." King Jarvan said softly. "We can at least hope to match Noxus on the field of battle."

"I hope you know, your highness," Elias started softly, dropping his gaze to the floor. "If you chose to meet Noxus in force, Kalamanda will be wiped from the map. The rancor and malice in Kalamanda is rising. Soon, not even you and the prince will be able to stop it."

"Pray." The king said softly, shaking his head. "Pray that we are able. Pray that it does not come to that." "Pray." The king said softly, shaking his head. "Pray that we are able. Pray that it does not come to that."

The high councilor nodded sagely as they moved off, heading down the hallway. As silence descended upon the darkened hallway once more, the woman laughed lightly, smiling to herself as she leaped off the beam, descending gently down to the ground.

"That's right, pray to your gods, Demacian." She purred softly. "No one else will be able to stop the rise of the Black Rose."

She rolled the vial of blood in her hand, her smile growing cruel and cold.

"With this… the blood of the Crown Prince of Demacia, no one will be able to stop us. Not even your precious dragon will be safe."

The woman faded into the shadows again, disappearing completely.


	52. Author's Note

Another year gone and another chapter in the Cataclysm series has come to an end.

Hello everyone, Val here!

First off, a few words on the future of Cataclysm.

As you can tell by the ominous end to the epilogue of CKR, there will be yet another installment in my ongoing series starring our favorite Prince and Dragoness. I have a number of shorter pieces that aren't necessary to the main story, but fit within the canon that I will be working on in the next few weeks and months. Among these will be Quinn's exploits and her hunting of Lambert, as well as some possibile exploration into some of my OCs. It might be a little while till I finish anything for the sequel, but that's not a guarantee, I have been known to deceive people with my rough ETAs. I will also likely continue to explore some of the more intimate moments that were often implied but not explored, so keep an eye out for all the different things I've got coming.

Secondly, I shall be returning to Cataclysm of the Dragonborn.

Originally, after I first finished Cataclysm of the Dragonborn, it was clear in my mind that the beginning of the story, chapters three through twenty or so, are in desperate need of a heavy tune up. I need and paln to spend a decent amount of time fixing, clean and clarifying some of the early portions of the story, as well as making some changes here and there to better fit the more finalized version of some of the later characters, namely Shyvana and the mechanics of how her interactions with her draconian side occurs both physical and visually.

Thirdly, the people behind the scenes.

With Cataclysm, there were numerous people who assisted me with editing, proofreading, planning and cleaning my story, but this time, there were far few people involved, this is becoming a one man show. I would like to thank Senstrae, my beta reader, though I did lose her input and insight around half way through. I'd also like to thank Butcher-Bird190 for his constant talks and questions about Shyvana and CKR which helped me improve and evolve my characters so much.

Lastly, I'd like to extend a massive thank you to everyone who's been reading.

It's thanks to you guys following this journey through the working of Demacia and the intimacies of her people that this was all possible! The praise and support from PMs, Comments, Favs and Follows are the greatest form of reward I could hope for with this project, and I hope everyone who's made it this far has enjoyed themselves. So thank you, readers, for sticking through it all with Jarvan, Shyvana, Delancey, Forsythe, Vorscham, June, the Sergeant Major and I through the ups and down.

I hope this story has lived up to your every expectations.

As always, it's been a pleasure, and until next time...

I shall see you on the Fields of Justice!

-ValkyrieLead


	53. A New Story!

A new short story in the Cataclysm series is underway!

Go check out Cataclysm: Demacian Ranger for the next entry in the series!


	54. Author's Notes II: Ongoing Developments

With the conclusion of Cataclysm: Demacian Ranger, I'm standing on the verge of launching yet another massive project. However, I'm far more busy now than I was during the past few years and the ongoing releases of Dragonborn and Kalamanda Rising. As such, the release of Cataclysm: Beginning of the Fall is likely going to be delayed quite a while till I can get more of the story on paper as I continue to flesh the story out through planning and other scenes that I come and go working on. There is a lot more I have to hit, so I need to know where I'm going AND how I'm getting there, where in the past I've only know where I wanted to end.

While I work on the new story, as well as an original story of my own that I'm rewriting, I have created a Wordpress blog for rantings and posts about many things, Cataclysm among them. I'll likely throw in scenes that may or may not make it into the final release, as well as some other resources such as old planning documents, alternate ideas, and character dossiers that I use for reference. I will also post art of my doing and possibly some videos that I've been asked to create about the silly decisions regarding the Institute of War and Riot's penchant for 'Dark and Mysterious' pasts. So I'll be working on that, and while there won't be much Cataclysm for a while I've got a few other short, half finished projects I've been meaning to finish, so those might get finished and pushed out. A link to the blog can be found on my profile page.

Now a few questions for you, the readers:

What's the best way to get information about blog posts and my releases out? Any ideas? I've been struggling with this for a long time. In addition, I'd gladly accept short prompts as story ideas to work on to try and polish my writing style. If anyone has story requests for league champs/scenarios, or even other ideas from different universes, I'd love some requests/ideas/suggestions either here or on the blog.

As always, thanks for reading and following me for so long.

Cheers,

Val


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